A Second Chance
by wickedmetalviking1990
Summary: Fate intervenes and Bloody Mary is given the chance to live a life she never had, the life she wanted to have, and be known as simply Mary Tudor. Set in the 21st century. Rated T
1. Falling Asleep

**(AN: I just am not feeling too much about working with any of my other stories, so I've decided to start a new one. This is another 'wetting of the feet', in that I need to expose myself to doing _The Tudors_ stuff for future stories [-wink wink-].)**

**(I had originally wanted to make this story about Anne Boleyn, but decided that I'm totally okay with Anne and thought that 'Bloody' Mary needed to be de-bloodied and redeemed. After all, they do that to the nth degree and _then_ some in _The Tudors_, so why not?)**

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><p><strong>Falling Asleep<strong>

_November 16th, 1558_

It would all be over soon. But not soon enough for Mary Tudor, Queen of England. Bloody Mary, the Protestants called her, for the rampant executions of Protestants in her realm during her five year reign.

Tonight, Bloody Mary lay at death's door. Death was taking its time, and she wished it could all be over with. The great physical pain she endured was greater than any emotional pain she had suffered through in thirty-seven years of life. She thought, after being declared a bastard-child, re-owned, bastardized again, repossessed and then becoming little better than a fugitive, not to mention five years of court life, would have hardened her for anything.

But even now, sick, dying and looking like a bloated, pale frog, she wished it could all be over. She never showed her enemies, or her allies, any emotion: she was the daughter of Henry VIII, after all, she had a great reputation to life up to, one she could not honor by weeping, laughing or any other vain-glorious frivolity. Even now, weak and at death's door, she would not cry out, she would face death right on, ready for it with no regrets.

_After all_, she thought, _what have I to regret? All that I have done is right and good. My mother was the one and only wife and queen of my father, and I made England see that. Those who threatened my throne with their lies were put to the stake: what union did the people of God, the holy Catholic church, have with heretics? It was done for you, mother, to repay them for the pain they put you through...the pain he put you through._

Her confessor had finished the last rites, and Mary knew that she was ready to meet St. Peter and all the angels of God.

_Peace, at last_, she thought. _Earned it I have, in spades: God knows I have._

She couldn't really recall what happened at the very last. There was a moment where she was begged to sign something. She refused, but the pain continued. At last she scratched her name with the tip of the quill onto the parchment. God forgive me, that red-headed b*tch will have my throne.

Darkness settled in upon her. She couldn't feel the pain anymore. All was peaceful at last, and she hoped to see the faces of her mother and father in Paradise once all was over. Her eyes remained open, but she could not see anymore. At last she sighed.

It was like falling asleep.

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><p>Eyes blinked open into a world full of whiteness. Was this Heaven? She looked down and saw that she had no body, no hands, nothing. She tried to speak, not even knowing if she had a mouth to speak, but there was only silence. It was terrifying, to be trapped in emptiness, not even knowing if you are a body or not. All she could do was see, though whether or not she had eyes was another thing entirely.<p>

Gradually, a being emerged from the light. It was tall and masculine, reminding her of her father with the large bearded face. Although this man was not as large as Henry, his arms, even hidden beneath his robe of white, looked in possession of great strength. His hair was white like snow, and his face shone like the sun. She noticed that the collar, sleeves and hem of his garment were blue.

"You have brought much suffering to your realm in only five short years." he said. Mary wanted to scream at him, shout, cry, anything, just tell him that it was all a mistake. The bishops told her that it was right, to exorcise the Protestant heretics from her land. She was only doing it for her mother, surely he would understand.

"In your pride," he continued. "You convinced yourself that what you did was right, but it was not so. Our **LORD** has said 'Thou shalt not kill.'"

She could not speak, it was horrifying. Here she was, at her judgment bar rather than the Gates of Paradise, and she could not even speak in her own defense.

"It was not for retribution or for family, that you did such deeds," the man continued. "But for yourself. You were hurt, and you chose to burn the world to heal your hurt. For that, you deserve nothing less than to be buried in the Lake of Fire up to your neck, as befits the punishment of the violent!"

If she even had a heart, it would be beating within the body that she did not have. Was she about to be sent to Hell just because she killed a few heretics? Did the lives of a few heretics mean the same to God as the lives of good Christians? Was she to be punished for their deaths, as deserved as she felt they should be, though the Pope, St. Peter's successor and supplant to God on Earth, said that their deaths were assurance into the blessedness of Paradise?

Suddenly there was a light, and the old man knelt down before it. The light seemed to hover between the man and her eyes, and under its glare she saw that every word the old man had said was right. The light did nothing, said nothing, but into her mind she understood the exact truth: she was tempted to ease her own suffering and, once queen, had the power to do that, and exact bloody vengeance upon those who had wronged her. Her only recourse was herself, and even in the end, she was trying to convince herself that what she had done, all the lives she had ordered ended, was just and right and good in the eyes of God.

She felt small, naked, ashamed. She wished to have a body that she might hide herself from that light, yet she knew that there would be no way to fully hide from it. The light had no voice, but she felt as though it had spoken her damnation: no eyes, yet she knew she was under its gaze.

It began to draw close to her, drowning out everything else. She wanted to hide, to make herself as small as possible and hide from this light, or even to put the light out all-together. Anything to ease the pain it was causing her: no, for there was no pain. She had no body, and the light had no form to cause pain to her. No pain at all. Even so, her mind, her conscious understanding - her soul - knew that what the light spoke was truth, and it made her sad, realizing the pain of the loss...

Of eternity.

The light was coming closer. There was no more pain, but she wished she could be rid of the light. It was all around her, though she could not tell for certain: her sight was incapable of movement, being deprived of a body. Even that was slowly fading, going to black. Overwhelming dread came over her: an eternity in darkness, loneliness, deprived of all sense and company, even of tormentors, was possibly worse than being in a lake of fire.

Sensation was coming back to her body. She was covered in cold sweat, every hair on her body standing on end. A loud thumping sound echoed from her chest. She was gasping, but it seemed like forever since she had breathed. Something soft and warm was holding her face, but the rest of her body was stiflingly hot.

Mary Tudor opened her eyes, after four hundred and fifty three years of non-being.

She was awake again.

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><p><strong>(AN: Okay, we're done with the first chapter. And I had some fun being all other-worldly with my depiction of the afterlife, Ulver was used liberally. Now as I'm coming up with ideas for this and other stories, any suggestions? Please leave them in the review box, they'd be much appreciated.)<strong>


	2. Severely Disoriented

**(AN: Wow, so many reviews and hits just in the first chapter. I hope that means you all will love this story as it goes on.)**

**(Here's the next chapter, enjoy!)**

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><p><strong>Severely Disoriented<strong>

She woke to a sight wholly alien to anything she had seen. This was not Whitehall, Hever, or any place that she had ever known in her entire life. As her eyes snapped open, she saw that there was a woman's face at least a foot away from her own. Those must be her hands upon her face.

Mary was still screaming.

"Hey, it's okay!" the strange woman said. She spoke English, it seemed, though her accent was very strange. "Shhh! Calm down, it's okay! It was just a dream!"

Mary gasped, wondering if she could speak. It seemed as though yesterday since she spoke last to her Privy Council, but now language seemed as alien to her as they now seemed to her in this strange room with this strange person.

"Wh..." she gasped. "Where am I? What happened?"

"Just calm down, please!" the strange woman said. Mary seemed to be calming, for her chest was not heaving as fiercely as before, and she was not screaming anymore. But she did not feel at ease in the slightest.

"Who are you?" she asked, pushing the woman away from her. "Where am I? What is this place? What happened to me?"

"Beats me," the strange woman said. "You didn't exactly come with a note, you know."

"I didn't what?" Mary asked suspiciously.

"But you were in a coma," the girl stated. "You don't remember anything, do you?"

"In what?"

"You were unconscious," she continued. "It's kind of a long story."

"Tell it."

"Tell what?"

"Your long story." Mary insisted. "I want to know what has become of me." She suddenly looked down and noticed that she was not wearing anything else under the sheet that was over her lap. With a cry, she gathered it up and covered her modesty. "Where are my clothes? What have you done with them?"

"Me?" the woman asked. "You were the one lying naked in the rain when I found you a week ago."

"What did you say?"

"I was on my way home," the woman continued. "When I saw you lying in the ditch, naked. I thought you were dead, so I called the police. They took you to the hospital, said you were in a severe coma. But you didn't have any ID on you, so they didn't really have any way of knowing who you are. Since you were admitted under my insurance, I thought I'd take you home and help you recover on my own."

Mary's head was reeling from what she had heard. The words meant nothing to her, yet they must have meant something to the strange woman. She didn't look mad, nor did she speak as if she was one insane: then again, Mary did not spend time around a lunatic asylum and did not know the intricacies of the insane.

"Uh," the strange girl said. "You look a little green around the gills."

"I look what?"

"Just don't puke on my bed, okay?"

"What?"

"Here," the strange woman stood up and walked over to a door nearby, opening it up and turning on a bright light that sent Mary's eyes closing in shock at the sudden in-flow of light. "Use the bathroom if you need it. I'll be in the other room."

The strange woman left before Mary could even think to order her to stay. This all made no sense. Her eyes slowly blinked open, getting used to the mesmerizing glow of the fluorescent light shining from the open door. Beneath the covers of the bed, Mary's feet slowly slid down to the floor. It was cold, but she found that her feet were still working. Wrapping the blanket around her body, she rose to her feet and started moving toward the light.

She swayed as she walked. Her hands reached out, touching the wall as she tried to ease her way toward the glowing door-way. Her eyes swelled as they absorbed this bright, and she felt uncontrollably drawn toward it. Her hand rested on the edge of the door-way as she walked into the bathroom, looking around for the host of candles that must be giving off the light.

But there were no candles. A large tube of something that looked like glass was glowing with brilliant fire, not as bright as the sun but close enough without being blinding. It was mesmerizing to just stare at, and Mary's mind wondered how such light could be maintained.

Just then, her eyes fell from the strange glowing light to the wall. A huge mirror dominated the side of the wall she was looking at, and in it she could see her whole reflection. She gasped in surprise to see herself. It was as if the past seventeen-to-twenty years had vanished from off her whole person. Her face, wide and care-worn - her maids said they were 'smile-wrinkles' even though she never smiled - was now pleasantly round, as it had been when she was still considered beautiful: all the lines were gone. She was much thinner, looking nothing like the 'frog' that she had been called by her detractors.

She was young again.

Her head was filled with so many thoughts, about what had happened, about this strange new world, about why she looked like a young woman again, rather than an old maid. She realized that she was suddenly very weaker than she was normally. A dark haze clouded her vision and she knew no more.

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><p>When Mary came to once again, she saw the strange woman again. Looking around, she saw herself back in the bed with the strange woman seated at the side of the bed.<p>

"Just take it easy now," the woman said. "You hit your head on the sink."

Mary shook her head, trying to clear up the fogginess that was still eating away her mind. It was frustrating, she could not think clearly, distant events were becoming uncertain and molding around in her mind like clay upon a potter's wheel.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"In my room." the strange woman answered.

"Where is your room?"

"In Apartment 209," the woman quizzically answered.

"Where is that?"

"Lexington Apartments," she returned. "You ask a lot of questions, you know."

"I just want to know," Mary said. She then turned to the woman. "And while touching that subject, just who are you?"

"Sarah," she returned. "The girl who saved your life."

Something about being found naked in a rainy gutter came flashing into Mary's mind.

"Thank you, for saving me." she said. "I must find a way to repay your generosity."

"Tell me about it," Sarah commented. "I save your life and take you in. My parents would have a fit if they found out about this: 'Sarah, you can't be taking in people you find on the street like that! They could be a murderer, a rapist, a serial killer.'"

"I assure you," Mary said, sitting herself upright in her bed. "I am not a murderess, nor do I mean you any harm. In fact, I am somewhat indebted to you for saving my life."

"Think nothing of it," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Uh...what's your name again?"

"My name is Mary," she answered. "I am Queen of England."

Sarah laughed.

Mary looked greatly offended.

"Have I said something that amuses you?" she asked in an irritated tone.

"I've seen the Queen of England on the television," Sarah answered, gasping from her laughter. "And trust me, you're not her."

"What did you say?" Mary asked, getting a little alarmed by her words.

"Well," Sarah began. "The Queen of England is old, and her name is Elizabeth."

This seemed to anger Mary greatly. Her eyes looked like two openings into an inferno of blue flame.

"That bastard is Queen?" she queried in response. Although she did not raise her voice, Sarah could tell that she looked angry.

"I take it you don't like the Queen all that much," Sarah said. "Your queen, if I can tell from your accent."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're British, right?"

"Yes," Mary answered. "What has that got to do with anything?"

"Well, you see," Sarah began. "This is America. Over here, you're allowed to say what you want to about people: it's called free speech."

"America?" Mary asked. "You mean the New World?"

"I think so." Sarah answered, a little puzzled. "Though I don't know what's so new about it, we've been here for almost two hundred years."

"We?"

"The United States of America," Sarah said. "Look, you're obviously not feeling well, so why don't you just go back to sleep and I'll be back in a while."

"I feel perfectly fine," Mary protested calmly. "Now I demand an explanation!"

"Listen, 'Your Highness'," Sarah said. "You're not in Britain anymore, this is America. We don't have kings and queens here. So I don't have to listen to your 'demands', okay?"

Silence followed, during which Mary's blue and Sarah's green eyes starred off at each other. The strange woman quickly broke gaze: although she was now beautiful, Mary's eyes still held much of the powerful glare that made her so menacing to her enemies in her later years.

"Uh," Sarah continued. "You obviously need to get back to wherever it is you came from. Uh, I couldn't find any ID on you, so..."

"Any what?"

"Identification," Sarah said, matter-of-factually. "Could you just give me your parent's number?"

"My parents are dead," Mary answered.

"Oh," Sarah took a step back. "I'm sorry."

"It was years ago," Mary said. Though the way she blinked and did not look Sarah in the eyes as she spoke said much more than she dared betray.

"Okay," Sarah said, sounding a little ashamed of how she acted before. "I guess you can stay here until we can find any family."

"I am most grateful," Mary said.

"Please, think nothing of it." Sarah walked towards the door of her room. "Uh, do you wanna have breakfast or take a shower or something?"

"No," Mary said, a little perplexed at the strange words this Sarah woman was saying. "If you don't mind, I would like to remain here in bed. I don't feel very well."

"If you insist," Sarah said. "I'm gonna head out for a little while, try and find you some clothes. Don't touch anything until I get back, okay?"

"Okay?"

"Yeah, do you understand?"

Mary nodded. "Yes, I understand."

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><p><strong>(AN: Hope you like this. Now I'm off to come up with more ideas for this story and others. Enjoy!)<strong>

**(And, tell me what you think about Sarah. She's a modern girl, who is pretty typical: pretty, nothing very special about her, not exactly a 'history fan', so she won't know anything about Tudor-lore. Any ideas about her? Should I adjust her character? And what about Mary? Is she believable as _The Tudors_-Mary?)**

**(Fyi, yes, I did name Sarah after Sarah Bolger, the actress who plays Mary in _The Tudors_. However, it is _not_ Ms. Bolger, just an OC who is _not_ based on her, except for the name. lol)**


	3. About Clothes

**(AN: You know, some people make the biggest deal over the smallest things. Like women and clothes for instance. lol, great way to start off this story, with a loaded sentence. Trust me, I'm not a misogynist. But as far as clothes go, I wear what feels comfortable, not so much as what is in season. But this chapter shows that even 16th century princesses can be a little picky about clothes.)**

**(Thank you so far for the reviews. Need to get more of this story together, but I have this much so I thought it went well on its own. Just wait till Sarah introduces Mary to 21st century technology!)**

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><p><strong>About Clothes<strong>

The sound of a door opening startled Mary from her day-sleep. The form of Sarah appeared, with clothes of a strange material in her hand. These she deposited unceremoniously upon the bed with a sigh.

"Here," she said. "These are for you. I hope they fit, I had to guess your size."

"You bought these for me?" Mary asked.

"Yes," Sarah answered. "I'm a bit taller than you, and I don't have any of my old clothes around here, so that's not an option. Plus, you can't go out naked, you know."

"My thanks, Sarah." Mary returned.

"Let me know if you need any help, okay?"

Mary nodded, and her host turned around to leave.

"By the way," Sarah turned back. "How are you feeling?"

"I am feeling much better, thank you." Mary returned.

Sarah nodded, then prepared to walk away.

"Wait." Mary called back. Sarah turned around.

"I've always been dressed." the dark-haired girl said. "I may need help getting into these clothes."

Sarah scoffed. "They're not that difficult to get into." She picked up a white t-shirt. "Put your head through the big end, then pop your head out through the middle and your arms out through both sides. Got it? Jeez, who the hell doesn't know how to put on clothes?"

There was silence, as Sarah saw that she had made a breech in manners. She looked nervously at the ground, then back at Mary.

"Alright," she sighed. "But I'm not putting on your underwear for you. You're doing that yourself." She picked up some under-garments and tossed them towards Mary.

Mary rose up from the bed, with the sheet wrapped around her body, and picked up the under-garments. As she was about to enter the bathroom, she paused, placed the under-clothes on her shoulder, picked up some of the clothes Sarah had bought her and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Two to three minutes passed, with Sarah sitting rather lonesomely upon the bed, as this strange Mary girl was trying on the clothes she bought for her. She looked at her watch, looked at the ceiling, chewed on the ends of her hair, then walked over to the door and knocked upon it.

"Who's there?" Mary asked.

"It's Sarah." she answered. "C'mon, you should be done by now."

"I will _not_ come out dressed in these!" Mary said from behind the door.

"Well, why not?"

"They're positively indecent!"

Sarah opened the door, and walked into the bathroom. Mary gave a yelp of surprise, and turned to see who had intruded. Mary had on a pair of girls blue jeans, and a turtle-neck sweater.

"What's wrong with them?" Sarah asked.

"Just look at them!" Mary explained. "They show of all my figure, as if I were not wearing a thing." She looked down at her feet. "And my ankles are showing!"

Sarah sighed. "It's the 21st century, Mary. You're allowed to show a little ankle."

Mary suddenly became very serious and turned to her host.

"What did you say?"

"I said you're allowed to show a little..."

"No, no. Before that."

"It's the 21st century?"

"It is most certainly not!" Mary exclaimed. "It is the year of our **LORD** fifteen fifty-eight."

Sarah took out her cell-phone, pulled up the calendar and held it up before Mary.

"Uh, I don't think so. It's the year twenty-eleven." she said. Mary looked in perplexion at the little glowing device in Sarah's hand, but could not deny what she saw.

_2011._

Just then, a wild idea formed into Sarah's mind. She never paid much attention in history class in high school, and never gave a second thought to ignoring history classes now that she was in college. After all, when all it was just facts and dates, why study a class for it when you can just google it or look it up on wikipeda? However, her phone had wireless internet - courtesy of herself and her own part-time job - and if this strange woman thought she was in the year 1558, she had a sudden thought.

"What did you say your last name was again, Mary?" she asked.

"Why does it matter?" Mary asked.

"I don't know, I just wanna know."

"Well, for the time being, I choose not to reveal it." Mary said. "Now if you don't mind, I would appreciate something a bit more modest."

"Listen, Mary." Sarah said, standing her ground. "You're wearing a turtle-neck in the middle of summer, that's not going to fly at all."

"I don't care if it flies, it shows off too much of my bosom!"

The sweater was actually rather modest, but since it was not the boxy dresses of Mary's time, it was rather shocking for her to wear something that was extremely form-fitting. She felt very exposed.

"What, the shape?" Sarah asked. "Look at me!"

"I see you," Mary returned. "And I'm surprised at what I see."

"What?" Sarah asked. "This is what's in these days! T-shirt and jeans."

"Since when do women wear trousers?"

"Why do you need a dress?" Sarah asked with a smile. "Plan on going out anytime soon?"

"I must go out eventually, I cannot stay in here forever."

Sarah laughed. "I mean on a fancy date."

"A date? Which date?"

"You don't even know what dating is?" Sarah giggled. "Like going out to eat with a guy?"

"I have courted suitors before, if that is what you are implying." Mary said.

"Suitors?" Sarah barely fought back another laugh.

"Prospects for marriage." Mary returned.

Sarah almost burst into laughter.

"Does what I say amuse you?"

"No, it's just, why would you even wanna marry someone?"

"Because my father wishes it."

"Whoa, wait. Your dad wanted you to marry so badly he set you up with some guys you didn't even know?"

"They were some of the finest nobles in Christendom, I'll have you know."

"Didn't you have any say in the matter?"

Though Sarah's tone of voice was light and frivolous, and she was still heaving from giggles, what she said stung Mary to the heart. It was true, she never had any say in the matter. Not when it came to her father getting a divorce: she had to go, and not even just go but live separately from her own mother as well. Nor when it came to the suitors, that was already decided by the men who she would marry and she had no say at all.

"No, of course not." Mary replied, trying to sound together. She always tried to put on a tough exterior, to show that she was not only a well-mannered lady, but a daughter of Katherine of Aragon as well.

"That sucks." Sarah commented, her smile fading.

"What is it that sucks?" Mary inquired.

"It's just an expression," Sarah shook her head, not knowing what it truly meant. "The point is, that's not fair."

"Life is never fair." Mary sadly stated. "I am afraid that some of us are not born for happiness."

"Hey," Sarah stepped over the bundle of clothes and placed a comforting hand on Mary's shoulder. "Cheer up. Everything's gonna be fine, don't worry."

"I am not worried." Mary returned. She saw that Sarah was smiling. "What is it?"

"It's just that we had this whole heart-to-heart moment over clothes?" she giggled a little. Even Mary could not help but crack a smile.

"Still," Mary said. "I cannot wear this kind of clothing in public. It's perfectly lewd."

"Trust me," Sarah returned. "This is what everybody wears."

"And who says I want to wear what everyone wears?"

"What, you mean you actually like wearing high heels and a dress?"

"It is what proper ladies wear," Mary said very authoritatively.

"Maybe on a date, or a special occasion," Sarah responded. "But every day?"

Mary gave her that look again, a kind of look that meant that I meant business and that my business better be answered to my satisfaction.

Sarah simply groaned "Just wear the jeans." and threw them at Mary before walking back out the bathroom door and leaving the bewildered former monarch with the jeans in her hands.

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><p><strong>(AN: Yes, I stuck in a little bit of a quote from <em>The Tudors<em>.)**

**(Will try to get a new chapter once I've got new ideas for this story and what direction I want it to go on. Please leave suggestions. Am I portraying Mary correctly? Should I change anything about Sarah? etc. etc. etc. You know the drill.)**


	4. Breakfast and Crosses

**(AN: I make one historical inaccuracy with _The Tudors_ and get chewed up for it. [lol]. Well, the producers got the same also. Besides, I was thinking about that one time in season 3 when she had to meet Philip of Bavaria. She didn't like him at first, since he was Protestant, and then warmed up to him later on [which is why she said they were the finest nobles in Christendom].)**

**(As for how she was found, lying naked in the rain, that is a little 'iffy', maybe. But you must understand, after she died in Chapter One, she had no body, and therefore needed to be reincarnated into a new body: 'reborn', almost. And since she left her clothes on her old body [the one that died in 1558], it would serve that she gets reborn like how we are 'born' the first time, naked and wet [lol].)**

**(This chapter helps flesh out the character of Sarah a little more. She's not as 'friendly' as in the last chapters, because I needed some friction. She's both supportive of this 'stranger', [Mary], yet doesn't like her naivety, especially since they are about things that, to Sarah's mind, should be second-nature and yet, to the 16th century mind of Mary, are not.)**

**(I don't know if they had cereal back at Whitehall, but I read somewhere that it was considered improper for women [and men] to eat with utensils, as late as the 14th century [and that was in Italy alone]. Theodora Doukaina of Byzantine, future wife of the Doge of Venice, ate with a golden fork in the 11th century and caused a stir. And I don't recall many forks or spoons in _The Tudors_ either, if any, so I'm guessing that might still have applied.)**

**(PS - I do not own _Cheerios_)  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Breakfast and Crosses<strong>

Sarah was busy propped on the sofa, on her stomach, thumbing through her copy of the latest young woman's fashion magazine. It was what she loved, mostly just for the articles about lifestyle, her favorite celebrities and hoping to see some shirt-less male model in one of the pages.

The door creaked open and Sarah turned around to see Mary standing there, wearing a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved V-neck shirt.

"That looks okay," Sarah said.

"I am not certain," Mary returned. "I still think it needs something. I feel a little exposed."

"It's your imagination," Sarah said. "Hey, you want some breakfast?"

"It is not appropriate to break the morning fast too early." Mary answered. "Only the peasants do that."

"Well, you're not in England anymore, Mary." Sarah said. "Over here, we eat three meals a day, so...what do you want?"

"What do you have?"

"For breakfast?" Sarah walked over to the little kitchen, tucking her magazine beneath her arm-pit, and pulled out a bag of white bread and a box of Cheerios. "Cereal or toast?"

Mary nodded, but paused when Sarah placed the two before her.

"Make it yourself." Sarah said, taking a seat back onto the couch and reading her magazine.

"What do I do with this cereal?" Mary asked.

"Get a bowl," Sarah returned annoyingly, not even looking up from her magazine. "Pour the cereal in it, then check the fridge for milk."

"The what?"

"The refrigerator."

"What is that?"

"The big white box in the kitchen."

Mary began opening covers, looking for the bowls. It didn't take long for her to come across some, and she took one and placed it on the counter-top. She then opened the box and poured the cereal into the bowl. Once done, she walked over to the large white box behind her and opened it up. Once she opened it up, she was mesmerized to see the bright light glowing from inside the box, and a cool breeze blowing from inside.

"Hurry up with the milk!" Sarah shouted. "Don't leave the door open!"

"How dare you speak to me that way!" Mary returned, looking back at where Sarah was laying.

"Well, I have to pay the bills around here, so it's my ass if you keep the fridge door open."

Mary found a carton of something that said milk on it, and placed this on the counter with the bowl and the cereal. She closed the refrigerator door, then returned to the cereal, pouring a fair portion of the white liquid into the bowl.

"Now what?" she asked.

Sarah groaned in frustration. "Get a spoon and shove it in your mouth!"

"A what?" she asked.

"A spoon! Damn, don't you know what a spoon is?"

"It is not proper to eat with utensils." Mary answered.

"Well, how are you going to eat your cereal, drink it out of the bowl?"

Mary did not say a word, but instead reached her hand into the bowl and picked up a milk-saturated Cheerio in her hand. After examining it, she placed it in her mouth and ate it. It was actually much tastier than it looked. Closing her eyes, she crossed herself and sent a prayer in Latin, long memorized from her youth, for the blessing of the food. Once done, she continued eating it, bit by bit. She then realized that she did not have anything around her neck, which she usually did.

"I need a rosary." she said aloud.

"Excuse me?" Sarah asked.

"A crucifix." she added.

"Listen, 'Your Highness'," Sarah said mockingly. "I'm not your servant-girl, buy your own crosses if you want."

Mary looked about the apartment room, noticing many strange devices that she did not know of, but there were no religious icons that she could recognize.

"I see that you have no crucifix in your apartment," Mary said, beginning to feel a little wary about this strange woman. "Are you a Protestant?"

"I don't believe in any of that Jesus nonsense," Sarah returned. "It's all just fairy tales parents tell their kids to give them hope when there isn't any, like Santa Claus."

"What did you say?" Mary asked.

"I said I don't believe in God, Mary. Are you deaf as well as stupid?"

"I am not stupid, and until now, I thought that my own enemies were Protestant heretics. I did not believe that anyone could possibly not believe in God as you do. Are you a Turk?"

"No, I'm agnostic."

"What is that?"

"It means I don't believe in anything that can't be proven." Sarah returned.

"Our **LORD** is not a matter of proof, but of faith. If it were of proof, then there would be miracles being performed daily. We make our own miracles, and choose to put our faith in Jesus Christ and the intercession of the saints, then our place in Heaven is assured."

"Okay, Miss Jesus Freak," Sarah said, throwing her magazine aside and standing up to face Mary, seething with anger. She was a little taller and looked a little frightening, like a blond-haired female Henry during one of his tirades. "Tell me this: when my brother died of leukemia, where was God then? When my best friend killed herself after she got raped, where was God then? Tell me that, Miss Know-it-All!"

"I do not presume to know all things, Sarah." Mary replied calmly. "I am but a simple woman. Far be it from me to dare presume to know what God does or speaks, but perhaps your loss was a test of your faith, one which you failed miserably."

"Yeah, God killed my brother and my best friend just to test my faith! Pretty cruel of him."

"Is that all?" Mary returned. "My father hated me because I was not born a son, and he blamed my mother for sins she did not commit. He was seduced by a whore, divorced my mother and disowned me, declaring all true Catholics enemies of the state, and if this was not enough, made me care for that b*tch Elizabeth!" Though Mary did not show any outward signs of emotion, the way her chin trembled while she spoke next showed that she was holding back from bursting out in some kind of emotion.

"I was not even allowed the common courtesy to see my mother on her death-bed. And when father died, things got even worse. My half-brother Edward, a mere boy, became king. Elizabeth, that brat, the likeness of the whore, turned against me, because I humbly pray to the Virgin and the saints and not before God directly like these heretics, nor was Edward any different. Then he died, and instead of the throne rightfully returning to me, he gave it away to Jane Grey...over his own step-sister."

She looked at Sarah with those piercing blue eyes, her breathing slowing down as she calmed herself a little.

"In spite of all those trials, I never lost my faith in the **LORD** Jesus Christ. I pity your lack of faith, and will remember you in my prayers."

"Bite me." Sarah muttered as she walked back to her magazine.

Mary said nothing, but returned to her cereal. The Cheerios were getting soggy, and fell apart as she picked them up. She lifted the bowl up to her lips and drank from it quietly. Due to what had just happened, she said nothing but walked back to the room, milk-mustache and everything.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: More interesting stuff will happen later on, though I'm sort of easing into it, so that I don't skip any potentially awkward [and therefore possibly funny] moments of 16th meets 21st century. They, Mary and Sarah, need to be on at least amicable terms before the former is allowed to leave the apartment, so I've got a little bit of 'bonding' for our two leading ladies.)<strong>

**(There will be guy-characters later on, though not 'Gary Stu' characters. If anything, I'm just the writer looking down at these characters, and trying hard not to be omniscient. Haven't you ever had that problem with writing, where you, as the writer, know everything that's happening and you sometimes let something slip and it destroys all dramatic tension?)**

**(Ideas are always helpful and welcome.)**


	5. Making Up

**(AN: New chapter alert!)**

**(This ff-lethargy is really getting me down. Today, however, I might be able to publish _two _chapters! Finally watched two season 4 episodes of _The Tudors_ and posted my own fan-video. That got me back into the mood - and whenever I see Mary in _The Tudors_, even though I loathe Bloody Mary, I'm silently rooting for her.)**

**(I said that two chapters would be published. I did not say to _which_ stories those two chapters would belong.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Making Up<strong>

After the confrontation, Mary drank her soggy Cheerios and walked back into the room and closed the door behind her. Mary had much to think about. She knew that no Christian nation would let their people flat-out say that they did not believe in God, much less that they hated God. Whatever evils the Protestants had done to her and her mother, and whatever the Church of Rome may have said about them, they claimed to worship God in their own way.

Seeing those words on the silver, glowing device in Sarah's hands shocked Mary to the heart. How did she happen to be here, in the New World of the 21st century, rather than England in the 16th century? Surely after four hundred years, everybody she knew was dead and gone. She suddenly felt very foolish for thinking before that this 'Queen Elizabeth' was the Elizabeth she knew.

"Elizabeth..." she whispered.

Not b*tch, not bastard, nor any of the colorful metaphors she had concocted for her red-haired younger 'sister', related to her only through her father the King, once she began to openly take the side of the Protestants after Henry died. But simply 'Elizabeth.' She was dead and gone by now, as surely as, in her time, King Alfred was nothing more than legend, having died so long ago. Mary felt suddenly very alone in this cold, strange new world.

About an hour or more had passed, when a knock rang at the closed door.

"Enter." she said to the door.

Sarah appeared as the door opened up. Her blond hair was tied up in a pony-tail behind the back of her head, and she kept her eyes constantly on the floor, as if she was about to do something extremely uncomfortable.

"Listen, I, uh..." she cleared her throat. "I'm sorry I lost my temper with you. I just, you know, I just wish..."

"What is it you wish?" Mary asked curiously.

"I wish you'd understand all I've done for you," Sarah lifted her eyes up to look at Mary's piercing blue eyes. "You know, not a lot of people would have stopped for a dead body lying in the ditch on a rainy night, or asked the hospital to let you stay at my place since you didn't have ID and no place to go other than the police station!"

"I am grateful that you saved my life, Sarah." Mary returned.

"Are you?" she asked. She tried to respond, but Mary just seemed very earnest, despite not being overly emotional about it or flaunting her emotions like some of the girls Sarah had grown up with. This girl, this woman, was obviously different, very different.

"Look, I-I am sorry I snapped." Sarah said. "Can we put the past behind us now?"

"Yes," Mary answered. Though she was a little nervous about what this agnostic would do to her. In her time, at least, Catholics died for their faith every day - which is not to say that the Church of Rome didn't burn a few thousand Protestants whenever they could get their hands on them. She knew not what this strange New World believed, but she thought it right to keep quiet about hers unless she knew she was around people she could trust.

"Come on," Sarah said. "We're going out."

"Out?" she asked.

"Yes, as in out of the apartment. I've been cooped up in here too long, I'm starting to lose my mind."

"Then you should see a physician immediately!"

Sarah gave Mary a quizzical look, but then realized what she was trying to say and stifled a giggle with her hand. "No, not that kind of crazy! Just, you know, feeling crazy from being stuck in one place for too long."

"Restless, you mean."

Sarah thought about it for a second, then made a face that showed genuine interest in what this other woman had said.

"Yeah, I guess you could call it 'restless', I suppose. Anyway, you're coming with me."

"I am?"

"Yes, Mary, you are."

* * *

><p>Dressed as they were - Mary's jeans and black V-neck with Sarah's jeans hacked off at the knees and her white T - left the apartment. Sarah insisted that Mary wear flip-flops, rather than heels, since she didn't have any. Now that they were ready, Mary led Sarah to the door and out of their little apartment room. Once they were out, Sarah motioned for Mary to follow her to the elevator where they got in and Sarah pressed the button with the 1 on it. The elevator began to hum and gently began to move downward. Mary reached out at the hand-rails at the side of the car.<p>

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked. "You've never been in an elevator before?"

"No," Mary returned. "What is happening?"

"We're going down." Sarah explained. "An elevator means you don't have to climb a whole bunch of steps."

"Exactly how tall is your apartment?" the dark-haired girl asked.

"Thirty, I think." she answered.

"Thirty stories tall?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Who would need a building so tall!" Mary exclaimed. "And what of collapse or fire? The taller buildings get, the more likely they are to fall. Have you not heard of the Tower of Pisa?"

"Please," Sarah rolled her eyes jokingly. "That thing's never gonna fall. Besides, these buildings are made to withstand just about anything. It's almost impossible for them to fall."

Once the elevator stopped, Sarah led Mary out of the elevator into the lobby. Then they walked out the entrance and Sarah continued down the street. She stopped when she realized that there wasn't another set of foot-steps echoing behind hers. Turning around, she saw Mary gazing up with amazement at the steel and concrete monumental skyscrapers all around them.

"What?" Sarah asked. "You've never seen a city before?"

"I have," Mary returned. "But..." She had not the words with which to describe the massive buildings that surrounded her on all sides. They were just so huge.

"C'mon." Sarah took Mary by the hand and led her away from the spectacle, they had other things to do.

They visited a village market that was a few blocks from Sarah's apartment. Mary was surprised at the way people dressed and awed at the sheer volume of people. The streets were flooded with people walking here and there, of all shapes, sizes and colors. It was only by holding onto Sarah's hand that she kept from being lost.

While Sarah was paying for their food, Mary was eying the transaction.

"What?"

"What were those green notes you were giving her?" she asked.

"It's money, duh." Sarah returned. "You don't have money in England?"

It wasn't a long shot for Sarah to guess that Mary was from England: seeing how she reacted to the news about Queen Elizabeth, and, of course, her accent.

"Of course we do," she answered. "But we use crowns, gold and silver coins, not paper bills."

"Well," Sarah continued. "My guess is that there's not enough of gold and silver in the world, or else it wouldn't be as valuable. So we use paper money instead."

"Is it safe to use?" Mary inquired.

A pensive look crossed Sarah's face.

"I remember something from elementary school about this," she said, as they were walking away from the village market. "The banks have all the gold in the nation, and they use paper money to represent that gold in the bank."

"A bank," Mary retorted. "Like the Royal Treasury?"

"I guess so," Sarah answered. "But everyone can use the banks."

"And these banks are secure?" Mary asked.

"Pretty much," Sarah answered. "Fort Knox is supposed to be impossible to get into."

They continued on down the street, Sarah leading Mary to a thrift store where they could find some inexpensive shoes for her to wear. Once again, Sarah discovered that the sound of foot-steps behind her ceased.

"What is it now?" she asked, a little annoyed.

Turning around, she saw Mary gazing up with wrapped attention at a very large cathedral, looking very out of place among the tall skyscrapers of glass and steel. Sarah sighed.

"What? It's a church."

Only the honking of the horns that rose up around them from the city could be heard as neither of them spoke.

"Oh, I forgot. You're a big time Jesus f..." That was what Sarah wanted to say. But something was keeping her from saying it, from speaking her mind. It wasn't any outside force, because she didn't care less what Mary thought of her. It was from inside: she herself was keeping herself from using the pejorative statement against Mary. To her great surprise, this was what came out of her mouth.

"Do you wanna go inside?"

"I may?" Mary turned to her friend.

"Sure." Sarah returned. "I'll meet you there once I'm done shopping, okay?"

"Thank you." Mary said.

She then turned her eyes towards the huge image of St. Patrick's Cathedral. She had been under the impression that everyone in this 'New World' believed as Sarah did, that they didn't really care about God or anything spiritual. Seeing this all-too familiar site of a cathedral in the midst of this concrete jungle gave Mary an ounce of hope.

Perhaps she wasn't as alone as she thought she had been.

* * *

><p>Looking quickly to either side of the street, she briskly walked across and ascended the steps of the cathedral on the far-side. There were three huge wooden doors, ornately carved, that led into the giant cathedral. One, however, stood ajar. Cautiously, Mary walked into the open mouth of the cathedral.<p>

Inside it was truly massive. A high vaulted ceiling reached up to a grandiose level, with large pillared alcoves on both sides. Stained-glass windows adorned the walls and the huge glowing lights hung above her head. Her very breath echoed in the huge cathedral, and her tiny footsteps were magnified and echoed loudly as she crossed the long rows of pews down to the altar.

She knelt down before the sign of the Cross, crossed herself, and then began to pray silently, all the while gazing up at the golden image before her. It was the first time she had seen the likeness of the Savior since her 'death-bed'. The priest had a rosary with the image of Christ upon it as he read her Last Rites, but that was all in the past - the distant past, in fact.

Mary suddenly realized that she hadn't confessed since she had 'died.'

She looked about, and then found the wooden booth that was her goal. Though she walked as quietly as she could over to the booth, her footsteps made heavy echos in the cathedral hall. She was glad once she slid inside the cozy, wooden box that every sound she made was not being so amplified. She sat down upon the cushioned seat, and then crossed herself.

"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned." she began. "I...I cannot recall when I last confessed."

"The **LORD** knows when you spoke to Him," the voice of the priest said from the other side of the partition. "What sins have you to confess, my child?"

_What do I confess_, Mary asked herself. _The hundreds of people I killed? The hatred I felt towards my father, towards that whore Anne, towards Elizabeth, towards Edward, Jane, Cranmer, Latimer, Ridley, even towards Sarah... Sarah_. That brought up something else, something that, in light of what she had just done, made Mary feel very guilty.

"I have committed the sin of pride, father." she began. "I...There was a woman, she took me in, gave me food and shelter. I am nothing but grateful for what she has done for me. But...we disagree on matters of faith."

"Tell me about this disagreement, my child." the priest said.

"She has no love for the **LORD**," Mary continued. "She blames Him for every tragedy that has befallen her in her life. But I've had bad things, terrible things, happen to me in my past, but I never..." She realized that her voice was raising. She cleared her throat. "I've never doubted the **LORD**. Therein lies my pride, father, for I told her - to her face - that I was better than her because I never doubted Him."

"I see." he replied. "You will say fifty 'Our Fathers' and fifty 'Hail Marys' as a penance." He then crossed over the partition, towards where she sat. "I pardon you for your sins, in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen."

"Father?" she queried.

"There is more?"

"Not any sin to confess," she continued. "Although, I have to ask this one thing of you. Why do you not use Latin in your benediction? Are you a Protestant?"

"No, I'm Catholic." the priest returned. "But we can perform our duties in the vernacular."

Mary was surprised that the Holy Mother Church would ever dare do something so...common, so blatantly Protestant, as to make the liturgy available in the common tongue, rather than in Latin.

"There's something else, father." she added. "I don't have a rosary."

To her surprise, the image of the priest shifted and through one of the holes in the ornately carved partition, a tiny wooden crucifix was pushed through, along with the rattling sound of the rosary beads following after it.

"Oh, no, father! I couldn't!"

"Please," he insisted. "And think nothing of it. A priest is more than willing to tend to the spiritual needs of his flock."

"Thank you, father." she returned.

The sound of foot-steps echoing in the cathedral alerted Mary that someone else had entered the church. Stepping out of the booth, she saw Sarah, with two bags in hand, sitting in one of the pews at the far end of the church, closest to the door. Mary wished that she would not make so much noise as she crossed the rows of pews and sat down next to her friend.

Neither of them said anything. It seemed like they did not want to say one thing or another that would offend the other, but yet there was nothing else they could think of that, at the moment, would be relevant.

"I went to the gift store and bought you this." Sarah said, reaching into one of the bags. She brought out a box, and handed it to Mary. Receiving it with both hands, Mary examined the box for a while before deciding that she could not find the way to open it.

"Here, I'll help." Sarah said. She pried at the tape on the sides and then flipped the cardboard flap out of the box, pulling it out just a little. Mary did the rest. She could not force the single tear that fell out of her dazzling blue eyes to stop. This was just too much for her.

In the box was a wooden crucifix.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Look at me and my bad self! [lol])<strong>

**(Although the monetary unit of _crowns_ were not being printed in Mary's rule, she obviously knew about them since they were being used in Henry's, Edward's and Jane's rule [Grey, not Seymour. That is the 'Jane' she mentions in her thinking].)**

**(I'm liking what I've published so far, and hope you will as well. Now that our two are back on amiable terms, they're moving out of the apartment building and gonna start doing things. Sorry if the start was slow, but I had to ease in to it. Besides, this is going to have some substance to it, so it will definitely be long.)**


	6. Kyle

**(AN: Thank you for waiting.)**

**(Thought I needed to get Mary into something that would bring her in contact with other people. Here we see another OC who, aside from being a total geek, is _not_ an author's pet. He's the geeky character that every 'typical' girl needs to serve as the brainy side-kick, since her life's goal is not being a walking dictionary [like with Elphaba and Glinda, though with them, Elphaba is the brainy protagonist and Glinda is the damsel-in-distress side-kick. lol].)**

**(Neither Sarah nor Mary are in distress. To the contrary, they're about to take control. Check it out!)**

* * *

><p><strong>Kyle<strong>

Mary did not see much of Sarah for the next several days. It was a little disappointing, for they were now getting along again and Mary wished for some goodly company. She did not know how to use the strange 21st century devices that were all throughout the room, so she spent her days reading. Though not many women learned to read in her time, noble-women were permitted that luxury, even if they had been bastardized several times.

She was cloistered in the room, reading one of Sarah's fashion magazines. One look at the shirt-less male models on one of the pages sent a flush of red color into her pale cheeks and the pages shut closed immediately. A knock sounded at the door.

"Enter."

Sarah appeared, with a large plastic bag in her hand that she placed upon the floor at seeing Mary sitting on the bed.

"What is this?" she inquired.

"School books," Sarah returned. "I'm going to Empire State University this year, got to get my things together."

"You go to university, Sarah?" Mary queried.

"Well, yeah." Sarah answered, as if that were obvious. "I'm studying to get my Bachelor's in medicine. You don't think I wanna stay in an apartment in Manhattan for the rest of my life, do you?"

"Women are allowed to attend universities?" Mary asked, her chest expanding as it usually did when she was faced with things that made her either angry, nervous or suspicious.

"Duh," Sarah said. "Equal Rights wasn't for nothing, you know."

"Equal what?"

"The Equal Rights movement," Sarah began. "I forget the details, but it has something to do with women becoming independent."

"Independent?" Mary asked, as if it were as bad as Protestantism.

"Yeah," Sarah returned. "You know, not all women want to get married, have kids and live in the suburbs."

Women doing things other than their 'womanly' duties? Mary was reminded of the rumors she heard about that Protestant preacher Anne Askew. Though women had some measure of freedom in her time, Mary knew her place, as did her mother. And it was not in the pulpits, or the trenches or the fields.

"What's the big deal?" Sarah asked, noticing Mary's perplexed expression.

"Only the clergy are permitted to attend university," she returned. "And it is hardly appropriate for a woman to do such things."

"Don't tell me you're one of these masochistic types," Sarah rolled her eyes. "Who wants to be under a man's control, having him think for you, make decisions for you and tell you what to do and how to do it."

This hurt possibly more than Sarah's tirade against God. Mary's chest rose in anger as she looked at her 'friend' with something of a fondness, yet acute disgust.

"I was married to a man," she said. "Who wanted nothing more but to make me his subject!"

"Then why wouldn't you _want_ to be free and independent? Calling the shots the way you see fit?"

Sarah's words resounded with Mary with more power than a thousand Papal bulls or royal decrees from King Henry. Mary had never had much freedom: always being dragged about from childhood to bastard-hood, then to princess and back out of favor once Edward took the throne. She wanted to live as she wished, rather than to be controlled like a puppet upon a string by men like her father, Edward, the Dudleys or even Philip II, the husband she spoke of.

"I would like that." Mary said meekly.

"That's better." Sarah smiled. What she did next, she would never understand why. "Well, hey, if you want, you can come with me to ESU, sit in on a few classes, take some notes. Who knows, maybe you'll like what you see."

"You're inviting me to go to university with you?"

"I'm not sure if you can 'go', _per se_." Sarah stated, punctuating with quotation fingers. "With no ID and all, that would be difficult. But I can vouch for you, and you can use my books. I'll even ask my friend Kyle to make you a school ID."

"Who is Kyle?" Mary asked.

"He's an old friend of mine," Sarah returned. "Big computer geek, works for ESU's student registration. I'm sure he can get you a student ID and before you know it, you'll be taking classes along with the rest of us."

"You would do that for me?" Mary asked.

"Of course." Sarah smiled. "What are friends for, after all?"

For the first in a long while, Mary smiled a big, earnest smile. It felt good, stretching her face out into a seldom-used expression, and one that made her feel on top of the world - like she was Henry's beloved daughter, able to see her mother whenever she wanted.

Before it all went downhill.

* * *

><p>The next day, Sarah dragged Mary out of the apartment and hailed a taxi. Mary was quite thrilled, riding around in the little yellow vehicle that was faster and much less bumpy than the carriages of old. After a few stops and several hours in traffic, the taxi halted and Sarah paid the driver for his services.<p>

They found themselves in a new part of the city, one that Mary had not seen - though, to be honest, all of the giant buildings looked pretty much the same to her. They entered another high-rise apartment, took the elevator up to the ninth floor, and Sarah led Mary down the carpeted halls to the room marked 938. Sarah raised her fist up to the door and knocked. The door pulled open, still clinging to its chain-lock, and a middle-aged woman's face appeared through the crack.

"Sarah!" she greeted. "Hi! It's been so long since you've dropped by. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. S." Sarah said. "Uh, is Kyle home?"

"Of course," Mrs. S returned. "Come in, he'll be pleased to see you."

The door closed and after the chain was removed from the lock, the door opened and they were invited into the apartment room.

"Who's your friend?" Mrs. S inquired.

"Uh, this is Mary." Sarah introduced. "Mary, this is Mrs. Stevens, Kyle's mother."

"Hi, Mary."

"Hello." Mary tried to curtsy, but noticed that she did not have a dress and so settled with a simple inclination of the head and bending of one knee, while letting the other one lean back.

"C'mon." Sarah took Mary by the arm and led her over to a door at the farthest end of the apartment. It was covered in RPG and epic-fantasy paraphernalia. An image of Firiona Vie was placed upon the door, with two bands of yellow Police tape stretched across the bottom just at her ankles. A Death Star loomed above the right of her head, an Owl at the left, and the silhouette of the Nine Walkers of the Fellowship of the Ring sat upon the bottom of the door. Upon the frame, Cirth runes inscribed the words from the Elf-gates at Eregion.

Mary gasped at seeing Vie's scantily clad form.

"Told you," Sarah said. "Kyle's a major nerd." She knocked on the door.

"Kyle, it's Sarah." she called out.

"Password."

Sarah's dark brown eyes rolled back into her head. "Kyle, I don't have time for your games."

"Speak the password or you shall not pass!"

Sarah sighed. "Friend, homie, _amigo_, _mellon_. Whatever! Just open the freakin' door!"

"Incorrect! The password has changed!"

Sarah groaned in frustration. "Look, Kyle, I have with me a first edition copy of _Amazing Fantasy #15_ and I swear I'll give it back to the pawn shop I got it from if you don't open this door!"

A sound of someone falling over something was heard and then the noise of bolts being removed from the door sounded. The door opened and a thin young man, as tall as Mary, emerged. He was almost as pale as she was, and had tape tying his glasses together.

"Alright, make with the loot." he insisted.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot," Sarah said sarcastically as she walked into his room. "I left it at my apartment. C'mon!" Mary sheepishly walked into the room, bumping her head against a Superman action figure suspended from the ceiling by a thin wire.

"Hey!" Kyle begged. "Don't mess with _Kal-El_!"

"I'm sorry!" Mary returned.

"Don't be," Sarah said. "He's got twelve of them stashed away somewhere."

"I still need the black suit from the Superman Dies series," Kyle commented absentmindedly, as he made his way past a life-size cardboard image of Spock performing his iconic hand gesture. "Now," He sat down at the chair before his desk-top, a miniature replica of the Emperor's throne, spinning it around to meet the two young women. "What brings two fair maidens to my lair?"

"Lair?" Mary asked.

"Don't mind him, he's an uber-geek." She turned to Kyle. "My friend needs a school ID."

"Oh?" he queried. "Another hopeful novice joining the masses at ESU."

"Hey!" Sarah returned. "No need to get all high and mighty on me just because MIT rejected your application...again!"

"They're part of the system, I'll have you know!" Kyle returned. "I don't need to plug myself into the _Matrix_ of convention and stereotypical expectations."

"Is that geek-talk porn?" Sarah asked. "Plugging yourself into the matrix or whatever?"

"Just wait!" Kyle said. "Give it a month or two, and those idiots at MIT will be throwing scholarships at my feet, begging me to attend."

"Yeah," Sarah laughed. "My guess is they'll be 'begging' you to get some real experience. You know, brains is nothing to first-hand experience."

"Technically, it's 'are nothing', Sarah." Kyle corrected. "I don't mind you poking fun at my alternate life-style, but, please, spare my ears the torture of listening to you butchering the English language in my presence."

Sarah shook her head, then saw Mary looking at Kyle intently. "Oh, don't pay any attention to him. He's always like this."

"And who is this fair maiden, Sarah?" Kyle queried, turning toward Mary.

"This is Mary," Sarah answered. "She's staying with me for a while."

Kyle then held up his hands around her, as if framing her into a picture frame.

"What is he doing?" Mary asked.

"Trying to imagine how you'd look dressed up as Princess Leia, I imagine."

"Princess who?"

Sarah pointed across the side of the room to a poster of the young Carrie Fisher, in her plain white dress with her blaster leaning against her temple.

"I look like that?" Mary asked.

Sarah scoffed. "Hell no!" She then turned back to Kyle, slapping his hands down. "Hey! Stop day-dreaming, _uber-nerd_! We need your help."

"Well, why?" Kyle asked. "You can sign up for classes on ESU's website."

"Uh," Sarah bit the bottom end of her lip. "She doesn't have ID."

"I see." Kyle stroked his bare chin pensively, trying to pretend it was the foot-long beard of a wizard. Sarah just shook her head. "I congratulate you, my old friend, on making the right choice."

Sarah just smiled, rolling her eyes.

"What choice would that be?" Mary asked inquisitively.

"Anyone else would turn you down if they heard that you have no ID," Kyle answered. "But what's impossible with other people is child's play for Grand Master Kyle."

"Will you do it, yes or no?" Sarah asked.

"Hand over _Amazing Fantasy #15_."

"I don't have it."

"Then no deal."

"I can make it worth while."

"Eww, no!" Kyle said with revulsion. Sarah threw her hand up over her mouth, trying to keep from giggling. "You're the Chewbacca to my Han Solo, the Sam to my Frodo, the Ron to my Harry, the Riker to my Picard, the Spock to my Kirk!"

"Please," she sighed. "Like you're anything as much of a player as Kirk. And why do I have to be Chewbacca?"

Kyle quickly took out a toy blaster and clicked the trigger at Sarah. Mary took a step back, a small yelp escaping from her lips.

"Because I always shoot first," Kyle said. "Like Han did."

"You definitely shoot first," Sarah said with cheek. "And what does this have to do with me again?"

"We practically grew up together," Kyle said. "Do you know how weird it would be if I started dating you? It would reduce my influence rating with you by at least a dozen points! I've done that math, I should know. It's the oldest ploy in the book: once friends start dating, they can't go back to being just friends."

"Eww!" Sarah commented. "Not that. I just want you to get Mary an ID."

"Get me _AF #15_."

"Kyle..."

"Be thankful I didn't add the _Star Wars Holiday Special_ to that list."

"I thought you had that already."

"I sold it on _ebay_," he returned. "Got major koinage for it."

"I'll see about finding the _Spider-Man_ comic thing," Sarah shook her head. "Now get Mary an ID."

Sarah pushed some of the things off Kyle's bed and offered Mary a seat, which she took sheepishly. Kyle, meanwhile, was ranting to himself about how easy this latest venture would be and mapping out his plan of attack.

"If you can get it done today," Sarah added. "I'll try to find you the un-aired pilot to Star Trek."

Kyle turned around, a look of supreme awe on his face and his glasses falling off his face.

"Are you serious? You have '_The Cage_'?"

"ID first, Cage second."

Kyle nodded, then turned his attention to his computer as if he were suddenly engaged in a 25-man heroic raid of _ICC_ at the final boss.

"Three days, Sarah." Kyle stated. "Three days and your friend will have her ID hot off the presses."

"You can do that in three days?" Sarah queried.

"You're looking at the one who hacked **NATO** three times without..."

"I didn't hear any of that." Sarah said, shaking her head and turning away.

"Who'd ever think an average girl like you would have anything to do with General Talidar the Impeccable?"

"What happened to Grand Master Kyle?"

"That's just one my alter egos," he returned, not even taking his eyes off the computer as his fingers flew across the keyboard. "The one I use among the simple-minded mortals such as you."

"Gee, thanks." Sarah said, shaking her head.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: I can't name the many different scififantasy stuff I've mentioned. With respects to them all, I don't own them - I just use them to ground our story in its time-frame, and to make you lol at the references you can associate with and recognize)**

**(I'll try to get back to serious story-writing in the next chapter. Mary and Sarah will definitely be at ESU by now)**

**(I'm pretty sure you've guessed where we're at now - in the Big-freaking-Apple. lol)**


	7. First Day of School

**(AN: Got the _Wicked_ blues again. So I've decided to come back to this. Maybe I can make something interesting that you'd love, unlike the rest of my stories)**

**(I once called myself a history buff - I'm not really _anything_ anymore, just another loser at a keyboard, pouring my thoughts onto HTML [rather than paper]. As such, let me state that I may get _some_ things wrong here, but nothing _too_ major. Like, I won't say something completely wrong. Though there were women fighting in those days, those were the exceptions, not the rule. Furthermore, as the daughter of Katherine of Aragon, I look to _her_ for a template of how Mary would act - a little bit reserved. We don't get to see much of Mary's _real_ character in _The Tudors_, just that she's extremely disciplined but breaks down every two seconds and ends up swearing to kill all Protestants. That's what _this_ story is purpose for: to find out how Mary is when she's given...well, you know [lol])**

**(Sorry for the rant. It hasn't been a great few days and everything.)**

* * *

><p><strong>First Day of School<strong>

It was not two days later (a little earlier than Kyle had promised) when Sarah walked into the room with mail in her hands.

"Here," she said, plucking out an official-looking leather. "This one is addressed to Mary, care of Sarah Leeland. That's me." She handed the letter to Mary, who then began looking around for something.

"Do you have a letter opener?" Mary asked.

"Just tear it open."

Which is exactly what Mary did. Though her finger-nails were not very long, she was able to tear her way through the letter and pull out its contents. She was greatly pleased that her mother and father had given her private tutors who tought her how to read and write.

There wasn't much, just a few words about the student ID, then the card with the little picture that Kyle had taken.

"Is this it?" she queried.

"Yep," Sarah replied. "That's your official school ID."

"Does this mean I can go to Empire State University with you?" she asked.

"Yep." Sarah returned. "But you're still using my books for studying. It's less expensive that way."

Mary nodded.

"By the way," Sarah stated. "I'm setting my alarm clock for five. Class starts at seven and I wanna be ready on time."

"Five o'clock in the afternoon?"

"No!" Sarah scoffed. "In the morning."

Mary's eyes swelled at the pronouncement.

"That's quite early."

"Yeah," she sardonically stated. "It's an extra hour 'cuz I'm gonna have to wait around for you to get ready before I finally get to leave."

Mary nodded, and Sarah left to do her usual thing.

* * *

><p>Early on Monday morning, the alarm clock sounded. Unfamiliar with hearing the loud, blaring noise, Mary immediately rose from her sleep, a look of panic on her face. Looking around, she saw a small black box was the source of the noise. Gripping a pillow, she tried to hit the box with it, but that did not silence the noise. Wrapping the sheet around her body, she walked off to Sarah's room and pounded on the door.<p>

"What?" a muffled voice asked from within.

"It's Mary! I need your help immediately!"

Sarah sighed from within. "Come in."

The door opened.

"Sarah," Mary said. "There's a frightfully loud noise coming from a small box in the living room. I think it might be possessed."

Sarah turned over from where she was sleeping, looking Mary up and down.

"Did you just say what I think you said?"

"It won't stop!" Mary added.

Sarah turned over and buried her face in her pillow.

"It's called an alarm clock, Mary." she sighed exasperatedly. "Just press the 'Snooze' button."

"Snooze?"

"It shuts it off."

Mary nodded, then walked back to her room. The noise of the alarm clock crying was as loud as before. Trying hard to endure it, she made her way across the cold, carpeted floor to the desk and looked across the device for the word 'Snooze.'

_Aha!_ she thought triumphantly, having found the button. With one finger, she clicked it. The noise was gone. She sighed in triumph, flopping onto the bed. However, she discovered that she could not fall back to sleep.

_What do I do now,_ she wondered.

A few restless minutes later, and a sleepy Sarah shuffled from her room, hair a mess and wearing nothing but a bra and boy-short panties.

"Sarah, please!" Mary commented.

But the weary Sarah did not feel like commenting, and walked into the nearby bathroom. The sound of rushing water followed, and in ten minutes, it was over and a gentle mist floated out of the bottom of the bathroom door. While Mary sat on at her bed-side, the door opened and Sarah appeared, a white bath-towel covering her body, her hair soaking wet and a blow-dryer in her hand.

"You better get in there," she said to Mary. "We don't have all day, after all."

"In there?"

"Yeah, in the bathroom."

Mary slowly walked into the bathroom as Sarah went on with her routine: blow the hair dry with one hand while trying to brush the teeth with the other hand. Mary just stood there.

"I'm inside." she said.

"What, you want an award?" Sarah asked. "Go on, take a shower."

"A what?"

"A shower! God, haven't you ever heard of a shower before?"

"I would appreciate you not taking the **LORD**'s name in vain in my presence, Sarah."

"Just go and take a shower already!"

"I don't know how."

"Don't they have showers in England?"

Mary did not answer. Sarah sighed her usual, annoyed sigh.

"Get in there," she pointed to the bath-tub, curtained off with an opaque white shower-curtain. "Take your clothes off, then turn the knobs until the water comes out."

"I'm only wearing the sheet." Mary said.

"Then take it off and get in there!" Sarah commented. Upon seeing a flush of color rising in Mary's cheeks, she rolled her eyes and turned away. "I won't look, if that makes you more comfortable."

Mary let the sheet fall from off her body and walked nervously into the shower.

"I'm inside." she said from behind the shower curtain.

"Turn the big knob."

The sound of water pouring out of the fawcett was heard and Mary made a tiny yelp as she stepped back.

"There's water coming out!"

"Yeah, that's the point. Now pull the knob."

The pouring water sound was replaced by the rushing water sound of the shower-head. Mary screamed slightly.

"What's wrong, did you fall?"

"The water is raining upon me!"

"Duh! That's the point of a shower!"

"Make it stop!"

"Why? You're not gonna melt, you know."

"But my skin..."

Sarah laughed. "Water is good for your skin, it cleans the sweat and dirt off."

"But it's cold!"

"Then turn the knob with the red dot on it!"

Sarah continued trying to get herself together while talking Mary through her first shower. She didn't want to go over there and have to pull back the curtain to instruct her. Sarah wasn't exactly comfortable with her own body, much less nudity with other women; after all, she had seen enough of Mary when she rescued her almost a month ago to last a life-time.

After reaching a point of moderate satisfaction with her hair and having brushed her teeth thoroughly, Sarah cast a suspicious eye toward the shower. No other words had been spoken since Mary turned the water towards the hot.

"Don't take too long in there!" she reminded. "We've got school today and I'm the one who pays the bills around here."

"How do I stop the water?" Mary asked.

"Turn the big knob back until the water stops. And push it in first, so the shower shuts off."

The noise of rushing water subsided.

"Now what?"

"Get a towel and dry yourself off!" Sarah sighed with exasperation. She then walked out of the bathroom, her towel still about her body. "I'll get your clothes."

Several more minutes later, Sarah had thrown the clothes into the bathroom while she herself went and got dressed. She was now in the kitchen, making herself a bite to eat for breakfast. Mary emerged from the bathroom, her hair dark with moisture and her clothes upon her.

"You're not gonna dry your hair?" Sarah asked.

"I'm still unfamiliar with your..._bathroom_." Mary returned. "I don't know where everything goes."

Sarah rolled her eyes then walked over to Mary and felt her hair.

"You didn't even put shampoo in it!" she exclaimed. With a sigh, she ran back to the bathroom and took out a comb and the hair-dryer (it was cord-less, so she could take it outside of the bathroom away from the wall outlet).

"Ow!" Mary exclaimed, as Sarah began tugging at Mary's hair and the dryer blew hot air upon it.

"Stop complaining!" Sarah returned. "'Always use shampoo and conditioner, or combing your hair will hurt like hell.' That's what my mother used to always say when I was younger."

"Your mother?" Mary asked.

"Yes!" Sarah stated. "We all have one, she's the woman who gave birth to you!"

"I know that," Mary returned. "I've never...ow! I've never heard you talk about your mother."

"It's kind of a long story," Sarah began. "My mom was really religious, passed it on to my brother. My dad, on the other hand, wasn't so much. How they ever...hold still, will ya? How they ever got along long enough to have me and my brother, I don't think I'll ever know."

"Were they at odds with each other?" Mary asked.

"If 'at odds' you mean they were practically fighting every two seconds," Sarah returned. "Then yes. I was a bit closer to my mom than my dad, but once she got remarried...and Jack died..."

"Who's Jack?"

"My brother," Sarah said. "After that, my step-dad didn't want me around anymore. I went back to live with my dad, finished up high school, then moved into the city."

"To learn to be a physician?" Mary asked, then followed up with an "ow!"

"Yeah," Sarah said. "I guess it was because of my brother. When Jake got sick, I was at his room day after day, I ended up missing so many days of school, falling behind so much in my classes, I _too_ got sick - but not from leukemia. He told me not worry about him, that God had it all under control..." _Turns out He didn't_, she thought, but found her lips strangely shut when she thought about Mary.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Mary said.

"It was," Sarah was sobbing. "The hardest thing I had to go through. I made a promise to myself that day at the funeral, when they lowered the casket into the earth, and I knew that I would never see Jake again - I promised that I would devote my life to helping others, that I'd make sure that Jake Leeland's story didn't have to happen to anyone else."

Mary walked over to the kitchen and picked up a dish towel - there were no handkerchiefs, so it was all she had on hand. This she presented to Sarah, who smiled a little and wiped her face down.

"Oh, look at the time!" Sarah nigh shouted. "We're gonna be late!" With one hand, she grabbed Mary by the sleeve and drug her out of the apartment. She ran back in, picked up her books, then the keys, and locked the door. She then ran off to the elevator down the hall, with Mary keeping pace as best she could.

* * *

><p>The taxi-ride from the apartment building to ESU was spent in silence. Sarah paid for their fare and then led Mary into the group of buildings that was the university.<p>

It suddenly dawned upon her that this would be harder than she had originally perceived it to be. Sure enough, she had an ID now, one that would look 'good enough' to pass muster with the Student Registration Office. But that did not excuse the _other_ loopholes in this plan that she hadn't realized until now. Mary was technically a 'freshman', since it would be her first year at ESU, though she would be taking junior classes with her, Sarah. And what about a 'major'? Sarah had been wading through the oceans of red tape for quite some time with her college education and knew that it was an unspoken requirement for students to already have a major and their futures planned out in advance once they were _in_ college.

_What the hell was I thinking_, she suddenly thought.

"Hey, listen," she said, turning back to Mary. "Stick close to me, okay?"

"Where are we going?" Mary asked.

"My first class," Sarah stated. "Listen, if anyone asks, just tell them to run it through me."

"Run what through you?"

"Questions, concerns, comments, anything!"

Mary nodded, with Sarah pulling her quickly on the way to their first class.

_Her_ first class.

* * *

><p>They were now on their way to the student center, Sarah stating that she was eager for lunch. The first four classes had been quite an interesting experience for Sarah. From what Mary had said before, as well as from her behavior, she was quite expecting to be holding her hand throughout all the classes.<p>

She was therefore quite surprised with how quickly Mary was with keeping up with the lectures. Even now, as Sarah had her purse out, checking to see if she had any money, she noticed that Mary had her notebook out, writing notes.

"Don't you think you have enough notes?" Sarah asked. "Stop! You're gonna run into someone!"

Mary said nothing, but continued with the note writing.

"What have you got there?" she looked over and saw that Mary had the first page of notes and a separate page with them, filled with words in a language she did not recognize.

"It's Latin." Mary stated.

"Why are you writing your notes in Latin?" Sarah asked.

"So I can transcribe them into French later," Mary returned.

Sarah sighed. "That sounds like too much work."

"Not enough, though. It took me longer with translating the Spanish. I fear I've forgotten some of what I thought I knew."

"I mean, why are you transcribing your notes into other languages? You're just wasting paper!"

"This is how we learned." Mary explained. "How our tutors taught us."

"Sounds like a lot of work." Sarah stated.

"In comparison, yes."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm quite surprised by what is accounted as university-level education," Mary stated. "My tutors could teach your professors a thing or two about education."

Sarah was not listening, for she had now procured a few bills from her purse.

"Do you want anything?"

"What?"

"To eat!"

"I don't know what there is to eat here." Mary said. "But I will be happy with whatever you get me."

"Okay. Stay here, I'll be right back." She walked into one of the 'stores' in the student center and began looking for something that would be appetizing. Mary, meanwhile, found herself standing in the hallway, looking very forlorn while she waited for her friend.

Suddenly, she felt someone bump into her from behind.

"Excuse me!" she returned.

"No, my fault." Mary turned around, and found herself _very_ close to a rather handsome young man. He was taller than she was - not a difficult thing, since she was not as tall as her father - and had short brown hair.

"Are you new here?" he asked.

"I, what?"

"Are you a freshman?" he rephrased.

"I don't understand what you mean."

He smiled. Mary was off-put by this. Sarah usually got frustrated when she did not understand what she meant immediately. This fellow, however, was not so.

"Is this your first time here, at this university?" he returned.

"Yes, it is my first time here."

"Well," he continued. "You might want to move someplace where you won't get hit."

"Hit?"

"You're standing in the middle of the hallway," he stated. "Not exactly a _good_ idea." He then took a step back, much to Mary's relief. Though she found this man quite handsome - what her father might have been in his youth, when he first fell in love with her mother - having anyone that close to her was a little off-setting to say the least.

"I thank you for your advice, sir." she said, taking a step out of the main flow of traffic.

"Please, call me Joe."

"That is the shortened form of Joseph, is it not?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Joseph."

"You're British, aren't you?" he queried.

"That is correct, how can you..."

Just then, Sarah came walking out of the store with a bag in hand.

"Mary, come on!"

She turned and saw her friend waving her to follow.

"Is she your...room-mate?" Joe asked.

"Yes, and friend, I believe."

"And your name is Mary?"

"Yes."

"Nice to meet you."

She nodded, then walked after Sarah, trying hard not to think of what was coming to her mind. Joseph, on the other hand, kept his eyes following the sea of raven-dark hair that indicated in which direction she was going.

* * *

><p>They were eating at one of the tables outside the student center. The day was clear, Sarah had insisted and Mary had no qualms about being outside. Some people did, she recalled. They were quite touchy about going outside, saying that it would damage their fair skin or a sea of other excuses. Father, for all that she had against him, was never one such: always riding about, going on hunts and even, her mother had told her, jousting.<p>

Mary wondered what kind of leisurely activities they enjoyed in the 21st century.

"What are you staring at?" Sarah noted. Mary was definitely looking about, almost at every single person who went passing by where they were seated.

"There are so many!" she exclaimed. "And all so different!"

"Well, that's New York for you." Sarah returned. "Rather that than the South, where everyone's pretty much related to everybody else." She rolled her eyes.

"Tell me about this country of yours," Mary inquired. "America, you said it was called."

"What's there to tell?" Sarah asked. "Fifty states and everyone thinks we suck."

"Beg your pardon?"

"I may not be a know-it-all like Kyle, but I know a thing or two about what's going on. It seems like the whole world has it out against America, and some of _us_ too."

"Are you telling me that America's own citizens have no love for their country?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Is that not treason?"

"Who's gonna stop us?" Sarah asked. "We _have_ freedom of speech, you know." She noted Mary's quizzical expression. "We're supposed to, at least. It's the idea that we can say whatever we want about whoever we want without fear of being silenced or harmed because of what we've said."

"That is outrageous!" Mary stated. "Those who hate your country and your king would be free to plot rebellion against him!"

"We don't have a king." Sarah said. "We have a president...although, there's not much difference, if you ask me."

"But why would people hate your country and your...president? From what I've seen, your country seems to be thriving."

"Maybe because we put our nose into other countries' business," Sarah said.

"Your country asserts its authority over others?" Mary queried. "That's a sign of strength, not a point of derision."

Sarah sighed, returning to her food. "Just eat your sandwich."

Mary returned to the wrapped sandwich that Sarah had bought her. She looked at it suspiciously, since it was quite different than anything she had known. It was also quite irregular, to be dining in public. Nevertheless, Sarah gave her an urging glance and Mary took a bite of her sandwich.

Her expression changed immediately.

"What?" Sarah asked. "What's wrong?"

Mary shook her head, while she continued masticating the bite in her mouth. After a moment, she swallowed.

"Nothing's wrong," she said at last. "I'm simply amazed, that's all."

"'Amazed?'" Sarah asked. "At what? It's a chicken sandwich."

"It is plain, quite unassuming to the eyes." Mary said with a smile on her face. "Yet it is so very delicious! It's as though my tongue danced within my mouth as I ate it."

Sarah smiled, stifling a chuckle, then picked up her cell-phone and began texting away.

"What are you doing?" Mary asked as she returned to her sandwich.

"You should meet my friend Will," Sarah said.

"Who?"

"That whole 'tongue danced in my mouth' thing?" Sarah stated. "Sounds like something _he_'_d_ write. You might like him."

"Write? Is he a musician?"

"He plays guitar, if that's what you..."

"You rang?"

Sarah and Mary turned to see a young man standing behind them. He was dressed rather humbly, yet in a style that was totally unique. He had long brown hair which was tied up behind the back of his head.

"Yes, Will, I did." Sarah stated. "This is my new friend Mary." She pointed to her. "Mary, this is William, he's a friend of mine I met here last year."

"A pleasure." Will said as he extended his hand. Mary looked at him for a while, then to Sarah, who indicated to him with a nod. Mary then took William's hand, but did not shake it.

"You are a musician?" Mary asked.

"I wouldn't use the word _musician_ exactly." William began, to a rolling of Sarah's eyes as she muttered 'Oh brother.' "I see myself as an artist of audio-expression, a scientist of sound. If I were a painter, my hands would be the brushes, my tongue would be the colors and my instrument my canvas."

"That's very lovely." Mary remarked with a smile.

"Oh, please." Sarah rolled her eyes. "Will's one of these 'bohemian' types."

"You are from Bohemia?" Mary asked.

At this, William laughed.

"Have I said something wrong?"

"No," Will answered. "I've just never had someone respond with..._that!_"

"Well, what else could you be, if you are a Bohemian?"

"No, Mary," Sarah said. "A bohemian is someone who's...well, a free spirit, I guess. No ties to anyone, not bound to anything...just live their life as they see fit."

"A vagrant, then."

"Not exactly," Will said. "You see, a bohemian elects for poverty in order to appreciate the value of individuality and freedom, a hobo chooses to remain poor and destitute because they spend their money on booze and sex." Mary blushed when he said this.

"Will," Sarah leaned over to her friend. "Don't say the 's-word' around my friend, she's a little sensitive."

"I thought they were a little more liberal in England." Will said. He then turned back to Mary. "Oh, forgive me. We're being rude, aren't we?"

"I must admit," Mary said. "I'm rather overwhelmed by all that I have seen and heard so far regarding your country."

Will looked down at his watch. "I only have twenty minutes before my next class begins."

"Oh, I forgot!" Sarah exclaimed. "Will, you should show Mary some of your 'music.'"

"Oh?" he turned to her. "You like music?"

"Yes, indeed." Mary said. "And I can play the lute and the virginals a little."

"You like classical music?" Will asked. He then picked up his guitar and played a short, finger-picked melody. Mary smiled.

"That's Spanish, isn't it?"

"Well, the mode is." Will stated.

"I like you, Will." Mary said.

"Well, hey," he said, looking down at his watch. "I gotta go right now, but, uh, could I get your phone number?"

Mary gave him a blank stare, while Sarah turned.

"Mary doesn't exactly have a phone, Will." she said. "Just call me, she's staying at my place."

Will nodded, then took off, waving them off as he left.

"He's a very interesting person." Mary said.

"'Interesting' isn't what I would say." Sarah returned.

"Why not?"

"His whole 'bohemianism' is silly," Sarah stated. "You can't live that way, you have responsibilities and things that you _have_ to do. One day he's gonna have to wake up, leave the _Black Bean_ and do something with his life."

"The Black what?"

"Oh, it's this little coffee shop in town," Sarah replied. "The _Black Bean_. Will and his bohemian friends hang out there sometimes."

"Still, I find him to be quite congenial company." Mary said.

"Well, yeah, he is." Sarah returned. "Nice and all."

* * *

><p>A taxi-ride back to their apartment. All through the ride, Mary was busy with her notes while Sarah was texting her friends.<p>

"I'm thinking about introducing you to some of my friends one of these days," Sarah said. "Well, once you're in the know, exactly."

"The know?"

"Well, when you know about how we do things here in the States. To be honest, you're gonna turn a lot of heads with the way you talk and how you're always asking questions about things that everyone knows about."

"I do not mean to cause a stir, but I am still somewhat new to your country and do not know everything yet."

"That's why you have me," Sarah said. She looked over at Mary's notes and shook her head, turning back to look outside. "So, how was your first day of university?"

Mary looked up from her notes.

"Very well, I should say."

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Knowing my luck, somebody's going to be calling me out on 'inaccuracies' again, saying that they had showers, hair-dryers, sandwiches, phones and who knows what other modern things back in the 16th century.)<strong>

**(William is not an author's pet. Yes, I'm a musician myself, but I have something special for him. In fact, I've been planning on making an OC such as he [rhyming. lol] appear in an original story, something as an experiment on my part. Well, here is his formal introduction. Tell me what you think of him. If you like him enough, I will indeed write his own story and post it on _FictionPress_. [if I do, it won't be a _Tudors_ fan-fic, but a true, honest-to-goodness story of its own, which would therefore be a great accomplishment for me, in making an original story].)**

**(I've got plans for pretty much everyone I've introduced, but there's another one who I need to bring forward yet. Plenty of good stuff to happen eventually, so please be patient as I flog my brains for inspiration!)**

**(10.14.11 - That bit about the South was from Sarah, not me. I've lived in the south for pretty much all of my life and while its people haven't always portrayed the fabled 'Southern Hospitality', they were nice enough. I think I should be able to create characters who do not share my views on everything. It's all part of Sarah's character development. She'll get better, I promise.)  
><strong>


	8. Sarah's Friends

**(AN: New Chapter!)**

**(I've also noted that Sarah's prejudice is a good plot device in how we can 'de-bloody' Mary. After all, as queen, she was [probably] detached from the people and/or didn't care whoever died, just as long as they died [I'm of the mind that there had to have been at least _some_ reason for her to be called 'Bloody' Mary, not that she was 'framed' or 'misunderstood.']. As my purpose is to have her change, she will have to come to terms, sooner or later, with how odious that kind of blind hatred is and forsake it - and what better way for her to face it than through her friend?)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Sarah's Friends<strong>

Over the next several weeks, Sarah and Mary continued their studies, becoming much entrenched in them. William was nice to have around, even if he did become a little bit of a distraction. They alternated between hanging out at the _Black Bean_ and at the cafeteria at ESU. Mary seemed to be always busy, which made Sarah look like something of a slacker.

One day, she and Mary were there, with William and, of all people, Kyle. He had finally decided, after much urging on Sarah's part, to come out of his 'Bat-cave' and join the living. William had his guitar in hand - he _never_ went anywhere without it - Kyle his laptop on his lap, with Sarah and Mary sitting on either side of William on the couch.

"Hey," Sarah stated. "Watch what you do with that guitar. You almost whacked me in the head with it!"

"Sorry."

Mary, typically, had her notes out and was studying their contents deeply.

"You know," Sarah said. "I think it's time you meet the rest of my friends."

Kyle rolled his eyes.

"What is the matter, Kyle?" Mary asked.

"Her _friends_ are the matter, if such shallow _Playboy_ bunny wanna-be's even count as friends."

"Don't listen to him," Sarah returned. "He just needs to get out of his little 'Fortress of Solitude' and grow up."

Kyle shook his head and returned to his page.

"You know, Will," he turned to the young Bohemian on the couch. "I didn't expect you to be going to ESU with the rest of the vulgar crowd."

"I was there last semester," he said. "Just for one semester, see how it went: the experience and everything. Then I met some people who convinced me to stay." He looked at his side. "One of them being Sarah."

"You can live the 'carefree, unexamined' life all you want," Sarah said. "But you still need to work to put food on the table."

"I'd rather be a free man," Will said. "Bound to nobody and tied to nothing."

"Are you a libertine rake?" Mary asked.

"I wouldn't go _that_ far," Will chuckled. "I mean, I follow some rules: be kind, generous, always wash your hands."

"He's just 'unconventional!'" Sarah stated. She then turned to Mary. "Seriously, you need to make friends with other women your own age. My friend Sasha is having a party this weekend and I'm inviting you to go. It'll be fun."

"Fun?"

"Enjoyable." Kyle interpreted.

"Will will even pitch in and buy you some clothes to wear!" Sarah volunteered.

"I will?" he returned. "I thought I needed the money for my rent."

"Call it an IOU."

"Deal."

"Don't worry, Mary." Sarah said. "You'll enjoy it."

* * *

><p>Classes rolled along despite any plans they had made. Will had disappeared for a while, but Kyle had his phone number and therefore he was always on call. Even more so, he had managed to fix an old cellular phone and give it to Mary for her use. When Sarah asked suspiciously about payments and service, Kyle simply said it was all tied to 'the Mothership.'<p>

That Friday afternoon, the day before the party, Sarah took Mary shopping. They met up with Will and soon were out buying things. Though Mary still did not know her way around the city, Sarah and Will knew all the best stores that offered affordable material. Though they had to guess Mary's size, it did not deter them. Unfortunately, she seemed determined to only wear black, and what Sarah would call the most 'overly modest' things.

After bidding farewell to William, they returned to Sarah's apartment and made dinner. Well, Sarah did. Mary was back at her homework, reworking the calculus problems into Latin. Though it was quite hard - the kind of stuff that, in Mary's day, would be considered ancient, classical knowledge, the kind only lawyers, theologians and clergy would learn - Mary was quite clever and actually excelled in the class more than Sarah did.

To Sarah's supreme and great annoyance.

* * *

><p>Saturday came at last. They got up, spent the rest of the day either reading or (in Mary's case) doing homework. Around five o'clock, they got themselves together. Mary had her hair tied back into its usual bun, while Sarah's was held in a lively pony-tail. She wore a very tight light-blue dress with a skirt that stopped about five inches shy of her knees. Mary's dress was much simpler: black, sleeve-less, and well covering her knees. Even so, she protested and said that even prostitutes wore more modest clothing.<p>

They were on their way via taxi-cab to Sasha's apartment (or wherever the party was being held). Mary, wrapping her sweater over herself for the hundredth time, heard Sarah making some snide comments about some kind of people she called 'Mexicans.' Mary was not exactly a fool: she had heard of her great uncle, the Holy Roman Emperor, had been embroiled in a very severe debate held in Valladolid over the treatment of the 'Indians' by his vassals during the conquests of the New World.

"Sarah," she began. "I've noticed something."

"What?"

"I see that you have little tolerance for those who are different than you," she said. "I daresay, you speak of them with such hatred!"

"Why not?" Sarah asked. "They don't work, whoever doesn't work, should not eat. That's how life works."

Mary had lived as such once before. But now, almost five hundred years ahead of her time, she had no enmity towards those she once hated. Nay, she found rather that the hatred she bore toward the Protestants seemed almost nonexistent.

Or, at least, it paled in comparison to Sarah's own prejudice.

_Was I _really_ that way_, she thought, _in my life?_

* * *

><p>Sarah practically dragged Mary out of the cab, into the (very rich-looking) apartment, up the stairs and to the thirtieth floor, where the party was being held. Once they were up, Mary threw her hands over her ears. The noise emanating from the boom-box was quite loud, since she had never heard of such things as amplifiers or bass sub-woofers. All around them, little groups of people were chatting, gossiping, or drinking.<p>

"I don't think this is a good idea." Mary said.

"What?"

"I have a bad feeling about this!"

"You sound like Kyle! Here, I'll introduce you to some of my friends!"

With one hand still on Mary's wrist, Sarah led her over to a group of her friends.

"Mary, I'd like you to meet my friends." Sarah said. "This is Rachel, Lilian, Tanya and _this_ is Sasha."

Mary found herself standing before someone who, even without her high heeled shoes, would still be taller than her. Her dress, it seemed, was even shorter, skimpier and showed more skin than most of the others here. Mary's face flushed with embarrassment as she noted just how much skin Sasha's dress _really_ showed. She was horribly tan - not the warm, natural kind of dark skin that Anna van Kleef had, but a fake, almost orange-colored kind of tan. She had blond hair, brighter than Sarah's, and hideous white things hanging from her fingers that looked too fake to be real finger-nails.

Upon seeing Mary, Sasha stood up a little straighter, pushing her chest out as if she was a peacock, showing off her latest feathers.

"Another stray, are you?" she asked.

"I'm sorry," Mary said politely. "Are you talking to me?"

"Um, no, I was talking to the other short, fat, pasty little girl next to you."

Mary looked to her left, and then to her right. Sarah was nowhere to be found.

"Are you looking for your ride?" Sasha asked. "You might have to be home before eight o'clock, you know." To this, her friends giggled as if they had just heard the latest from the comics section of the newspaper.

Just then, Sasha held out her hands in disgust.

"Oh my gawd!" she stated. "That is, like, the most hideous dress I've ever seen. Where did you pick that up, from the dumpster?"

"Are you an Amish?" one of her friends asked.

"She certainly dresses like one."

Mary's chest rose in indignation. It was all un-true, what they were saying. Her dress was only a little bit more modest than Sarah's, and hers wasn't much different than the rest of what they wore. Even worse, Mary was frightfully reminded of some very despicable characters from her days before becoming Queen in Sasha and her friends.

"Omg!" Sasha said. "Would you be a doll, Maddie, and hold my drink for me?"

"It's Mary," she returned. "And I am not a servant."

"No, really," Sasha said, her tone turning serious. "I need to visit the little girl's room." She turned to her friends and giggled nervously. "Could you hold my drink for me until I get back?"

"Well, I..."

"You will?" Sasha said aloud. "Well, that's just great!" Before Mary could say another word, Sasha poured her drink all down the front of Mary's dress. Exclamations and laughs came from those around, and Mary's pale cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I think that's the best thing I could have done to that dress," Sasha said to her friends. "Besides taking that tubby little piglet out of it."

_Not again_, Mary thought.

People often commented, in her life, about how much she possessed her mother's reserve. That was not so true in her younger years, when she had to endure the hardship of being disowned over and over. But being a queen meant that she had to fight against the beliefs that her male advisers and every king, duke, lord, earl and noble in England believed: that women were weak creatures controlled by their emotions.

When she had been queen, there were not as many emotional outbursts as before. She thought she had learned to govern her emotions well.

It seemed not well enough.

In a corner of the room where the partying was not so intense - as far away from the boom-box as she could get - Mary was huddled in a corner, trying in vain to dry her dress with her jacket. At least there weren't that many people here, and she would not have to endure the embarrassment of what Sasha had done to her.

"Mary, right?"

She looked up, and wished she could become invisible.

"What happened?" Joseph asked.

"The hostess poured her drink on my dress." Mary said, trying to regain her composure.

"Yeah, Sasha can be a b*tch." Joseph said. He then took off his own jacket, from off his shoulder, and held it out to Mary. "Here, you can wear this if you want."

"Thank you, sir."

"Just call me Joseph." he said, then took a seat beside her. "So, what brings you here?"

"My friend Sarah brought me here to meet her friends." Mary said.

"Your friend is _friends_ with these people?" Joseph asked.

"I would assume so," she returned. "Why?"

"Well, I mean, they're not exactly the nicest people in the world," he began. "I came by looking for my...ex-girlfriend, hoping we could make up. She's not interested: I guess I'm not up to her high standards of what a guy should be."

"The loss is only her own," Mary said.

He smiled, and Mary noticed that she was smiling back.

"Uh," he said. "Would you, maybe, like to go out some time? Maybe get a cup of coffee or grab a bite to eat?"

"You mean a date?"

"I guess so."

"I will have to see if I'm available." Mary returned.

"Well, here." he took out a scrap of napkin and a pen from his pocket and wrote a number upon it. "Here's my cell-number, you can call me if something's free, okay?"

"Thank you, Joseph."

"No problem."

He then dismissed himself and Mary was once again left all on her own.

* * *

><p>Three grueling hours later, Sarah finally found Mary and the latter begged Sarah to leave the party early. Though Sarah was not enthusiastic, she offered to take Mary home while she enjoyed the rest.<p>

On the way back, neither of them said much to each other.

"I don't think much of your friends." Mary said.

"Just give them time," Sarah returned. "They might be a bit rough around the edges..."

"Sasha poured wine all down the front of my dress!"

"It was probably an accident!"

"She called me fat, and treated me like a servant."

"You gotta learn to not take what everyone say so seriously! Trust me, give it time and Sasha'll come around. You'll see."

Mary was not so certain as Sarah was that Sasha and her friends were all that friendly. Sarah sighed then opened the door once they had reached their destination. Mary got out and thanked the cab-driver for the lift. She could find her way back to the apartment room.

Once inside, she reached up and felt that something was different. She had taken Joseph's jacket with her back to the apartment.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: And scene!)<strong>

**(I've often said that when I finished the story, but this is not finished, just this scene.)**

**(I've got to bring Mary into more conflict, and Sarah's friends were just the thing. No, Mary is not fat. I've already stated that she looks like she did when she was 20-ish [I'd say season 2 and early 3]. She might be a little short, but then I thought she was...and _Tudors_ Mary is quite pale [and has a pleasant, round face, which the vapid, rail-ish slutty people would call 'fat'].)**

**(Ha! Said something about Anna van Kleef! :D She's my favorite queen, aside from Boleyn [Catherine of Aragon, well, I do sympathize with her, but it's hard to be 100% 'for' her when I like Anne and the Protestants as well]. My least favorites would have to be Katherine Howard and Jane [-cough- Mary Sue] Seymour. Sorry, just my two cents. I won't make a habit of character bashing in this story: as you see, even Mary is not as hateful at Elizabeth. That's all part of her transformation, her 'de-bloodying'.)**

**(Sorry if I've offended anyone with what I've said. It wasn't intentional, but if I have to spend the rest of my life walking on egg-shells so I don't step on peoples' toes, I'll never be able to do anything!)**


	9. Fourth Thursday

**(AN: Sorry for the long wait. Unfortunately I couldn't release this when I wanted to: hopefully you haven't forsaken me...and you've re-read the last chapter. I replaced the apology with a real chapter, one that is essential.)**

**(Decided to jump forward a bit in time in the story and give ourselves a definite time and place, since this story is supposed to be happening in the current time. Once again, some of these characters will have different opinions than me - that is totally okay. If you have any questions about the other characters, please, let me know. I'd like some feedback on how they are going, not just flaming me because I made Sarah a bit of a prejudiced little...well, you know)**

**(Not to say that she's _evil_, per se. She's just going to cause some friction later on, but I plan on 'redeeming' her as well. Now get on to reading the story! Please? [lol])**

* * *

><p><strong>Fourth Thursday<strong>

It was Sunday, and Mary was kneeling in the pews of St. Patrick's, long after Mass had concluded. Here was where she felt safe, welcomed. When her father turned against her mother, and she was forbidden to ever see her again, she found solace in the Church. It was an escape, a refuge, from the troubles of her world.

But that place of refuge was under threat of being pulled down by the King. Even when he returned to what she knew as 'the true faith', the Church was always under threat from 'those Protestants'. She knew that if her world was ever to be safe from harm, every last Protestant would have to be burned out of it.

Things seemed so plain now, yet her reasons didn't seem any more credible and less self-serving than they had before.

Suddenly, her genuflection was interrupted by a fierce ringing noise coming from the pocket of her jacket. The weather had gone cold and she now wore a jacket - one that covered up everything safe for the neck, hands and face - whenever she went out. But now she felt extremely upset and embarrassed. Here she was, in the house of God, making that hideous, disrupting noise.

Worse yet, she didn't even know what to do about it.

First things first, she thought. Go outside, get out of this holy place before this noise disrupts everyone. Mary did not run much in her life, but she ran now. As she came to a skidding halt at the steps of the cathedral, she began examining her pockets, trying to find the source of the noise.

It was the old cellphone that Kyle had let her have. It was ringing, a line of ten numbers were listed on the flat-screen of the thing. With one hand, she lifted the cellphone open and with the other, placed it to her ear.

"Um," she sheepishly said into the mouth-piece. "Hello?"

"Is this Mary?"

She recognized the voice, no matter how distorted and noisy it was on the other end. Her heart leaped a thousand times beneath her chest.

"Joseph!" she smiled upon hearing his voice. "Yes, this is Mary."

"Sorry," he said. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

_Yes, I was at Mass_, she wanted to say. "No," was what she really said. "I was just on my way back home from Church."

"Uh, could I meet you there?"

"I, what?"

"Sorry, I forgot that I left my jacket with you." he returned. "Could I come by and pick it up?"

"Oh! No, of course! That would be perfectly acceptable."

"Could I get your address?"

* * *

><p>Minutes later, Mary was alone in the back of a taxi-cab, on her way back to the apartment. Sarah, who was out of town for the day, gave her fifty dollars and told her to spend it wisely. She used some of it for the cab-money, and discreetly dropped fifteen into the Church's offering plate.<p>

She was now back at the apartment, wondering if she should dress into something less formal than her church wear. Another part of her was wondering how Joseph had gotten her number, and whether it was a wise decision to give him directions to Sarah's apartment.

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a knock at the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," Joseph said. "Can I come in?"

"You mean, 'May I come in?'"

"Yeah, may I?"

"Yes, do come in."

The door opened, and his face appeared in the slowly widening opening.

"Uh, sorry if this is a little bit awkward," he said. "I happened to see you leaving with your friend, so I called Sarah and she gave me your number."

Mary nodded, but still kept a wary eye on Joseph.

"Do you have it?"

"What?" her eyes had been wandering over his form. Was it too late to go back to St. Patrick's and confess?

"The jacket."

"Oh, yes." She walked back to the room she used, and brought Joseph's jacket back into his hands.

"I must thank you again," she said. "For letting me wear your jacket."

"Please, think nothing of it." he dismissed. "It's the least I could do."

She nodded, smiling.

"Uh, hey, listen," Joseph stated, half-way out the door. "Are you still up for, you know, going out and all?"

"What would you like to do?" she asked.

"Oh, it doesn't really matter," he said. "As long as you like it, I'm cool with whatever."

As the room started to buzz with the awkwardness of the silence, they said their goodbyes and Joseph saw himself out of the apartment.

* * *

><p>The days seemed to rush by in a blur for Mary and Sarah. Between classes and weekends, Mary didn't see much of Sarah's friends: to her great relief. Kyle would often drop by with some helpful information or other: it seemed that the presence of this new-comer had sparked in him something that had roused him from his 'cryo-sleep' and out of his Bat-Cave.<p>

Before long, November was almost half-way over and Sarah and all of her friends were preparing for something that Mary knew absolutely nothing about.

"Sarah, may I ask you something?" Mary queried, one afternoon while they were alone.

"Shoot."

"I don't want to shoot you, just to ask you a..."

"I don't mean _literally_ shoot me," Sarah returned. "Just ask your question, already!"

"I see on the streets and hear from some of the other people at school," Mary began. "That a holiday is coming soon. But surely they're mistaken, Christmas is still a month away."

"But Thanksgiving is right around the corner."

"I've never heard of Thanksgiving." she honestly said.

"Really?" Sarah returned. "You _never_ heard of Thanksgiving?"

"I suppose I haven't."

"It's a holiday celebrated on the fourth Thursday in November," Sarah said. "Has something to do with Pilgrims and Indians, I can't remember. Go bug Kyle for a history lesson, if you want to know."

Mary felt a little shoved aside by Sarah's statement, but then again, Sarah had a life of her own, and Mary couldn't be burdening her all the time. But if she was indeed a burden, wouldn't Sarah say something?

"Usually families get together and stuff," Sarah said at last. "But my family hasn't spoken with each other in years, so I guess I'm gonna spend it with Kyle. His mom let's me stay over for Thanksgiving." She turned to her friend. "You can come if you'd like. I'll see if I can convince Mrs. S to let Will and Roger come as well. From what I hear, they don't usually get to have Thanksgiving."

"Who is Roger?"

"Will's bf," Sarah said. "He's a really nice guy, you'd like him."

Mary obviously wasn't listening to Sarah's response that clearly, she was too busy trying to recall if there were a holiday called 'Thanksgiving' ever held. She could bring up almost every ordained feast-day of the Church - Lent, Easter, All Hallow's, Christmas, among others - but she could not, for the life of her, remember anything called 'Thanksgiving'.

_Maybe I _will_ ask Kyle_.

* * *

><p>"Thanksgiving was established in 1623, two years after the arrival of the Pilgrims to America in 1621," Kyle began. "The Pilgrims left England in 1620, sailed to Holland, then made for the New World..."<p>

"Who were the Pilgrims?" Mary asked.

"The popular name for a group of Puritan separatists from England whose strict Reformer stance put them at odds with the Church of England."

"Reform?" Mary repeated. "Surely you don't mean Protestant heretics?"

"Big time Catholic?"

"Is not the mother church the _true_ church of God?"

"Mary, I'm Scientologist," Kyle said. "You can believe whatever you want to believe."

Mary was surprised at this. No wonder she knew of no Protestant holiday called Thanksgiving. In fact, she thought that they celebrated _no_ such holidays, their purpose being abolishing the time-honored traditions which they viewed as 'pagan' and 'unholy.'

"You know," Kyle spoke at last. "If you wanted to save a few bucks on the cab, you could always use Sarah's laptop to google whatever you want to find."

"Do what?" Mary asked incredulously.

"'Google'", he returned, spinning in his Emperor's throne back to his laptop, opening up a web-page. "It's this big corporation that started out with a search engine. You can search anything and everything just by typing it in here in the text-bar."

"I don't know how to use it," she said, looking at the computer.

"Say no more, young Padawan," he smiled. He pushed his throne away from the computer and powered up a nearby laptop. "Here, you can practice on mine."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," he shrugged. "This one's the good one," he indicated to the laptop he was now at. "This one's faster, has more space and memory, and..." He laughed. "I made it myself. It's my Precious!" He hissed, imitating some Stoor-troglodyte from one of his favorite fantasy stories. Mary just looked at him odd upon hearing the odd voice coming from his lips.

* * *

><p>Early one Saturday morning, but six or five days from Thanksgiving, the doorbell of the apartment rang. Sarah was asleep, but Mary was awake. She walked over to the door, removed the locks and opened up to reveal someone she had not been expecting.<p>

"Joseph!" she exclaimed.

"Please," he smiled. "Call me Joe."

_The way he smiles_, she thought.

"Uh, are you ready?"

"Ready?" she repeated.

"To go out." he stated. "We had agreed on today, remember?"

"Oh, yes!" she suddenly recalled. "I am not ready yet, will you give me a few moments to prepare myself?"

"Sure."

She indicated to a seat on the sofa while she ran back to the confines of the apartment's bathroom to get herself together. He waited for a few moments, while she got herself together. After almost seven minutes, Mary appeared again. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a deep violet sweater.

"Wow," Joe said. "You look great."

"My thanks." Mary returned. "So, where shall we be going today?"

"Oh, everywhere." he replied.

She blushed. "You jest. I'm still quite unfamiliar with this city."

Joseph nodded. "I'll show you the best spots, then."

* * *

><p>In the end, it seemed as though they did indeed went everywhere in New York City. While on Broadway, Mary was quite enthralled by all the lights and advertisements for the big shows - such as <em>Mama Mia, The Lion King<em>, even the green, smiling face on the poster of _Wicked_ intrigued her for some strange reason. But they did not stay for long, since Joseph had not the funds or patience for the musical theater.

Towards the afternoon, they found themselves on Liberty Island, staring up at the huge statue of Columbia, Lady Liberty, the patron of the lost and forlorn. Mary was musing on the poem _The New Colossus_, which they had just seen while exiting the statue.

"'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.'" she said aloud. "It's insane!"

"It's the American dream," Joseph returned.

"But there will always be poor," Mary explained. "If this country invites _all_ the poor of the world to live here, how will it survive? Such a bold statement!"

"If only we could live up to it," Joseph said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he said. "My parents weren't exactly patriotic...in the traditional sense. They believed that burning our flag was a proud statement of their patriotism."

"Such insult!"

"Yeah, but who could tell 'em that? Not the government, or they were 'Big Brother' tyrant. Not me, or they called me 'foolish' and 'ignorant.'"

"So you did _not_ have a good youth?"

"Depends on your definition of 'good'." he said. "Maybe not roses and presents every Christmas, but I'm alive, can't complain."

"I never thought of it that way," she mused.

"What do you mean?"

"I've always believed," she said. "That it is our duty to right the wrongs of this world, no matter the cost."

"Sounds like my parents."

"And yet," she turned back to him. "Your words, they ring true. I...I feel so foolish for not thinking of it before." She looked out at the east, across the Atlantic Ocean. Somewhere over there was England, her home, however it had changed in the past four hundred or more years.

"My child-hood was not the best," she began, speaking aloud. "Father also believed that he had the divine right to change what _he_ saw were injustices in the world." _Listen to me, sticking up for him and everything__, as if...no, not 'as if', for, despite all of his faults and all that he put me through..._

_I still loved father._

"And he didn't care who got hurt along the way?" Joseph finished.

"Exactly!" she turned around to him. The redness of her weeping eyes in stark contrast to her pale face.

"Don't cry, Mary." he said. With a strange kind of boldness, he reached in and wiped her face with his own hands. She did not flinch or tell him to forbear. Instead, she found herself wrapping her arms around his chest. This was the first man since Chapuys who understood and cared for her.

But this was different than Chapuys. He was like a goodly, Catholic uncle, always there to offer her his support, and his prayers. Joseph was...Joseph. No sense in bringing up the dead, that would not bring them back. Joseph was only Joseph, and that was all he could be. Yet that was enough, it seemed. It made her happy, to have someone like him.

Someone she might just be able to love.

"Oh, listen to me!" she sniffed. "You probably think the worst of me, as if I'm lunatic or something."

"No, no, I don't think you're crazy," he replied. "If anything, it's my fault. I shouldn't have brought it up, will you forgive me?"

She didn't say anything, but her head gently nodding into his chest was answer enough.

* * *

><p>That evening, he brought her back to the apartment. The bout of melancholy that had befallen them on Liberty Island hadn't ruined their evening and they were able to have a jolly good time regardless. Now it was ending, all too fast for Mary's liking.<p>

"Well, I guess this is goodbye." Joe said. "At least, until next time."

"Right," she nodded. Then it hit her!

"Oh, wait! What are you doing this Thanksgiving?"

"You kidding? My folks don't believe in Thanksgiving, say it's a time to be thankful for genocide and slaughter."

"That's awful! Well, if you're not doing anything, would you care to come with me? Sarah is taking me to this Thanksgiving party, and I would really like you to join...to come with me, or us, I mean!"

"Really?" he smiled. "Well, sure, if Sarah's okay with it."

"I'm certain she will be."

* * *

><p>The morning of Thursday came sooner than any of them would have guessed. Fortunately, Mary got just enough time in to tell Sarah that she was bringing Joseph with her. Sarah was okay with that, but not overly jubilant over it.<p>

Around three o'clock, Joseph appeared at their door-step. Mary welcomed him in and showed him to Sarah.

"I remember you," Sarah said.

"I you," he smiled. "So, when are we going to this, uh, Thanksgiving Day party?"

"Once the cab gets here," Sarah double-checked her watch. "We're eating at the Stevens' family apartment."

Mary smiled. Kyle was always interesting, in his own way.

"I hoped you brought your appetite with you," Sarah said to Mary and Joseph.

"What do you mean?" Mary asked.

"Oh, I forgot," Sarah muttered to herself. Aloud she said: "There's a lot of eating at Thanksgiving. Big dinner."

* * *

><p><em>Knock knock knock<em>.

938 opened and Mrs. Stevens ushered Sarah, Mary and Joseph into their apartment. It was looking quite smart, immaculately clean and candles upon the tables.

"Anyone else here yet?" Sarah asked.

"Uh, not yet." Mr. Stevens said. "Will called and said that he and Roger got stuck in traffic. They should be here by 5, though."

As Mary and Joseph walked into the living room, Mary saw a sight that made her start a little. Sitting upon a one-seat couch in line of sight of the television was a bear of a man. He looked like he must have been a sight to see in his hey-days, and although he had gone a little to seed, his arms and shoulders were still broad and powerful, even beneath his sweater. He almost looked like her father, just with less fat and brown hair rather than red, and no beard.

"Hello," the giant man said, rising from his seat. He was indeed tall, almost as tall as her father. She felt small in comparison: then again, he was six foot seven. "Don't think I've met you."

Mary was at a loss for words.

"This is Mary," Sarah said, introducing her speechless friend. "Mary, this is Kyle's dad."

"How do you do, Mr. Stevens?" she curtseyed. Though it looked a little awkward in her jeans.

"Very well, and you?" he held out his hand.

"Oh, I fare well." she shook his hand.

To their surprise, Kyle was sitting in the living room, with (predictably) his laptop on his lap.

"Glad to see you out of your man-cave, kiddo." Sarah said to her friend.

"Only on holidays and birthdays," he returned. "Or special occasions."

"Where's the music?" Mrs. Stevens asked. "Phil, could you put something on?"

"Right away, dear." Mr. Stevens got up off the couch, turned on the iPod station that was set upon the book-shelf, thumbed through several playlists and then started up some music that soon was flowing through the room. Joseph and Mary took a seat on a two-seater sofa in the living room, the 'love seat' as it were.

The minutes passed by pleasantly, alternating with Mr. Stevens talking with Joseph and he and Mary cuddling on the love seat. Sarah was pacing the floor, checking her cell-phone every two seconds.

"Could you stop the pacing, Sar?" Kyle asked. "It's disrupting my fragile train of thought."

"Well I'm about to through your crazy thought train off the rails if Will doesn't get here!" Sarah groaned. "And don't call me Sar: that's so childish. Sounds like Cher."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Mr. Stevens got up and opened the door; standing there was Will and a man that Mary hadn't seen before. In stark contrast to Will's long brown hair and clean-shaven face, this man had short, brunette hair almost black, and enough five o'clock stubble to constitute a small beard.

"Where have you been?" Mr. Stevens asked.

"Stuck in traffic," the dark-haired man replied. "_This_ guy..." He indicated to Will. "...decided to take what he called a short-cut."

"Was it my fault everyone else had that idea too?" Will asked.

"Oh, good!" Sarah leaped up from where she stood. "You guys are here!" She turned to the sofa and waved over Mary and Joe. "Come here, they're here."

The two left the couch and walked over to the door, where Will and the dark-haired man were putting up their coats.

"Mary, this is Roger," she introduced. "Roger, I'd like you to meet my new friend Mary."

"How do you do?" Mary greeted.

"None of your business," he returned.

"Roger!" Will elbowed Roger none too gently in his ribs.

"What?"

"She's a friend," Will returned. "That's no way to talk to a friend."

"She's not _my_ friend," Roger returned.

"Oh, come on, Rog, don't be like this!"

"Don't you 'Rog' me in public, Will."

"We had a deal, you were going to behave."

"I am behaving!"

"'She's not _my_ friend', how is that behaving?"

"Alright you guys," Sarah laughed. "Honeymoon's over, we've been waiting for you."

"Like I said, traffic." Roger returned.

"Well, now you're here," Sarah rebutted. "Will, did you bring your guitar?"

"Uh, yeah." he pointed to the floor, where he had put the case.

Sarah was busy urging Will to play his instrument for them all. Mary, meanwhile, walked up to Roger and cleared her throat. He didn't pay heed at first, so she 'ahem'd' a little louder.

"You _gonna_ wanna take care of that cough, princess." he returned.

"I want to speak to you," Mary stated.

"Oh yeah? About what?"

"About your rude behavior," she began. "Forgive me, but I have done nothing against you. Why, then, do you treat me with such callousness? I have never met you before, how could I have harmed you?"

"Oh, please, don't play dumb with me." Roger rolled his eyes. "You're wearing one."

"One what?"

"Right there!" he pointed at Mary's chest, right where her crucifix was held.

"It's a rosary," she replied. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh, you really _are_ a dumb b..."

"Hey, watch what you say about Mary, pal." Joseph said, stepping up to her side in defense.

"You can't be serious, homes!" Roger exclaimed. "You're actually sticking up for this pale-faced Bible-bashing Jesus-freak!"

"So what if she's a Christian?"

"Listen, missie," Roger said, pointing to Mary. "You can take your 18:22 and shove it up your ass! I'm proud of what I am!"

"Rog, come on!" Will stood up. "It's not a big deal."

"Oh, it isn't, is it?" he returned. "You think I got disowned by my family for nothing? You think I got picked on at school, got called 'queer' and 'f**' for nothing?" He turned around to Mary. "And this little _Christian_ just walks in here, pretending like nothing's wrong."

"What _is_ wrong?" Mary asked, trying hard not to lose herself in front of everyone.

"I'm gay, you stupid little tart!" Roger said. "Will's my boyfriend."

"Technically, you're _my_..."

But now Mary realized what he meant. He didn't seem happy in the least, that was for absolute certain.

"And you _revel_ in it!" she exclaimed.

"Why shouldn't I?" Roger retorted. "All of you all shove half-naked women down the throats of this country with TV and billboards, why shouldn't I be proud of what I am?"

"Then be proud of your place in hell!" Mary cried with revulsion.

"See? This is _exactly_ what I'm talking about, Will!" Roger walked over to Will. "See what I mean? This is the kind of..."

"Well, anyone would take it wrong the way _you_ presented it!"

"Shut up, you two!" Sarah screamed. All eyes were now turned to the living room. "Just let me handle this!" Sarah grabbed Mary by the sleeve of her sweater and pulled her outside the apartment.

"Okay, what the _hell_ just when on over there?" Sarah asked.

"Roger threatens the **LORD**'s wrath by loving Will!" Mary returned.

"And you're being really petty right now, you know that?" Sarah crossed her arms. "You know, it's people like you that are the one of the reasons I gave up on all that church bull-crap."

"I am not responsible for your hatred of God!"

"Hatred? The Bible says 'God is love!' You should read it sometime!"

"That is heresy!"

"And you know what you're doing is called? Bigotry!"

In an angry huff, she walked back into the apartment, leaving Mary out in the hallway all by herself. Where was Joseph, she wondered. He rose to her defense, why was he not here at her side, when Sarah had abandoned her?

Just then, the door opened. Mary's heart leaped, thinking it was Joseph.

"Hey, kiddo," Will said, half-a-smile on his face. "You okay?"

"No, I am not 'okay'," she returned, standing up. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What, that Roger and I are a couple?" Will returned. "Didn't think it mattered."

"Of course it matters!"

"Why?" he returned. "Hey, listen, you don't tell everyone you meet that you like to have sex with guys, right?"

"Of course not!" She blushed at his brazenness.

"See? It's the same thing. It didn't really matter to me, saying whether or not I was gay. It didn't seem like that big of a deal." Mary slumped against the wall, trying to comprehend this: it all seemed so unreal. If this America really were as 'Protestant' as she had been led to believe, why then were they ignoring the Bible they were ready to give their lives just to have in the common tongue?

"Hey, look, don't-don't pay any attention to what Roger says," Will began. "He's had a rough life. So have I, but I don't dwell on it. He's a good guy, once you get to know him."

Silence.

"But..."

"But what?"

"But it is against the Law of God!"

"The Law of God is love, Mary," Will said. "Besides, Christ dying on the Cross did away with the old law, which includes Leviticus 18:22." This did not seem to convince Mary. "Even so, you can't just go around, telling people off for being gay, or for believing in a different way than you do."

"Why not?"

"Because that's not what America's about. It's about freedom of speech and-and freedom of religion, and the freedom to do as you wish...within reason."

"How, then," Mary returned. "Am I to remain faithful in a world who's laws of freedom restrict what I can say?"

Now it was Will's turn to be silent.

"I'm not really the best one to talk about faith and such," Will said. "I was raised Baptist, but they wouldn't let me go back once they found out I was gay. Ask someone you trust, someone who believes, they'll be able to help you with your answers."

Mary didn't really say anything, but she embraced Will nonetheless.

"So," he said. "Does that mean we're still friends?"

"Of course we are," she returned.

"Good," he laughed. "Because, contrary to popular belief, I don't know what goes on in women's heads."

"No man knows," she returned. "That is the beauty of it all."

"So what do you say?" Will asked. "Let's go back in there and enjoy Thanksgiving dinner."

"What about Roger?"

"Oh, I think Joseph's got him under control." Will laughed. "You know, he's a good guy, that Joe. He'd jump in front of a car for you."

"Oh, I hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me neither," Will said. "You two are a cute couple."

Mary blushed again.

* * *

><p>Back at Sarah's apartment, many hours later. The Thanksgiving dinner had gone over well, despite Mary and Roger's outbursts. They ate plenty of food, told stories explained many modern things to Mary that she found interesting, and it ended with Will and Mary awing them all with a guitar session. All were in good cheer as they left the Stevens' family apartment and went their separate ways.<p>

The cab halted and Sarah paid their fare. She was on her way up the stairs when Mary paused.

"I will just be a moment," she said.

"Well, don't take too long." Sarah returned, then disappeared into the apartment.

Now alone with Joseph, Mary turned and looked up at him. Either he was tall, or she was still a little short.

"I..." she stammered, partially because of the cold and partially because of her fondness for this young man. "I'm sorry about my outburst at dinner. It was unwarranted, and I fear I ruined everyone's time."

"No, I had fun," he said. "Still, it can be tough, moving from your world into the real world."

"As I know for certain," she returned. "So, will I see you around any time soon?"

"We're both at ESU," he reminded her.

"Then, I believe I will see you later, good sir," she smiled.

He did not leave, not yet at least. Mary was not threatened by his presence, or by how close he was to her, but her heart was racing nonetheless. Perhaps she felt that she should not get too close to him, or else he would be taken away from her, just as everything else had been before in her life.

Slowly, his hand came up and brushed against her pale cheek. She wanted to say something, but still remained silent. Then he placed that had around the back of her neck: she closed her eyes. Their lips met just as the bells of a distant cathedral heralded the midnight hour.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Sorry it took so long, I've been jumping about from story to story and I hope now I can finally get some more things done.)<strong>

**(This chapter is definitely going to garner some controversy. Let me start out by apologizing for getting all preachy and such. But, as with _The Tudors_, religion is bound to play a decent role in this story. And I apologize to any Baptists who may have also been offended: I don't mean to say that _all_ Baptists are intolerant. Maybe Will was raised in the Westboro Baptist Church community, who are infamous for forgetting that God is love [that's a lovely way to put it!]. I'm not ripping on anyone's faith, just so you know.)**

**(I think I've said it before, but I'm thinking about taking Will and Roger to the next level, literature-wise. I had planned a whole story about these two [written on _FictionPress_, since it would be an original story] that would explain a little bit of their background before appearing herein and what happens to them apart from the story.****)**

**(Should I up the rating, to allow some harsher language? It just seems a little fake, using all these replacement words rather than real, hard language. After all, they used the f-word frequently in _The Tudors_.)**


	10. You, Me and St Nick

**(AN: Wow, such a reaction to the last chapter! And most of it wasn't bad! lol!)**

**(My only qualms about this chapter may be that I couldn't post it fast enough, because of how long it took to get _Fourth Thursday_ out, so you're getting a Christmas chapter [or Winter Holiday, if you prefer] in January.)**

* * *

><p><strong>You, Me and St. Nick<strong>

Mere days after Thanksgiving, the Winter Holiday exploded all around the city. Street-lights now had wreaths on them, pan-handlers sang carols, and the air began to get a little bit colder.

In a certain apartment room, Sarah Leeland and Mary Tudor were enjoying the day off. It was Sunday and Mary had come back in from Church. The next day would see them back at ESU, finishing up the fall semester. Today, however, saw them both lazily about the apartment.

"I don't like it," Mary said at once.

"What?" Sarah asked, looking up from her magazine.

"Being idle," she replied. "I wish I had something to do on my down-time."

"Like what?" Sarah asked, trying not to sound overly interested.

"I used to practice the virginals or lute," she said. "But I have neither."

"Okay," Sarah got up. "If I'm reading this right, you used to own a harpsichord and a guitar, right?"

"That's what you may call it."

Sarah laughed. "Your parents must have been rich as hell."

"They were!" Mary returned.

"Then how did you end up out here without a clue?" Sarah asked.

But here Mary came to a halt. Would she tell Sarah the truth? Could she tell Sarah the truth? They had already known each other many months, it seemed like the obvious thing to do.

"Why are you interested?" she returned.

"Oh, no reason, just the holiday."

This time, Mary smiled, she knew what Sarah was talking about.

"You celebrate the birth of our LORD and Savior?"

"You mean Christmas?" Sarah returned. "Yeah."

"Why? If you are not a Christian..."

"Look, there's more to Christmas than just the whole Nativity thing." Sarah began. "It's a time of getting together, a time of families and warm, happy memories around an open-fire with chestnuts roasting on-top."

Sarah blushed. Mary had never seen her act this jovial.

"What is it?"

"Sorry," Sarah blushed. "You have no idea how corny I sound! But yeah, I'm still a big fan of Christmas." She sighed. "Except that one, the year my brother died."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's water under the bridge," Sarah shook it off. "Now it's a time to hang out with my friends and buy them expensive gifts. But I think a guitar will be a little too expensive, even for eBay."

"What?"

"Oh, come here!" she waved Mary over to her laptop, which she opened up. "This is eBay, the online auction house. You can bid or buy all sorts of things here. Like, see?" She quickly typed something in the search bar, then several options appeared.

"Here, I'm gonna get Kyle a Lord of the Rings action figure," Sarah said. "He's been collecting them, but there's this one that he just couldn't find. I mean, they went out of circulation several years ago, so it's no wonder."

Mary was mesmerized by all the colors on the screen and the words and images to be paying much attention to what Sarah was saying.

"When it gets here," Sarah said. "I'd like you to help me wrap it."

"Wrap what?"

"His present," Sarah began. "See, that's how Christmas works here in America. We send gifts to each other."

This was not entirely foreign to Mary, just different to what she was used to from her own past Christmases.

Four days later, the package arrived. Sarah showed Mary the wrapping paper and asked her to join in with the wrapping. This, however, seemed a little odd to Mary. She had never actually wrapped presents in her day - if she sent a gift, the servants always prepared it before-hand.

In the end, they wrapped the gift together. Sarah used the tape and scissors while Mary chose which festive wrapping paper to use and how much to use. Once done, Sarah took out a label, a bow and a Sharpie felt-tip marker-pen.

"Here," Sarah said, placing the bow on top of the package. "Sign the label under 'From'."

Mary looked at the tiny paper label, festively decorated with a lining of holly. In the white drawing 'board', there was a 'To', with the word Kyle written across it a sharp-smelling black ink. Beneath was 'From', and the phrase 'Sarah and...' below.

Sarah handed over the Sharpie, and Mary scribbled her name, just as she had written it so many years ago...

_Marye_. Just without '_the Quene_'.

* * *

><p>One morning, Mary found herself woken up by Sarah, who was still in her pajamas. This was rather odd, for Mary often was the first to rise and accidentally wake Sarah up by reason of some small noise.<p>

"Merry Christmas, Mary." Sarah said. Mary slowly pulled herself up out of the bed.

"And a happy Christmas to you, Sarah." she returned.

"Sorry it won't be like on the Christmas cards," Sarah said. "But we kind of can't be hauling a tree into our apartment. There's usually a Christmas day parade, we can always go to that if you want. It'll be a big show, don't wanna miss it."

"It's all well and good," Mary said. "Now may I please excuse myself? I'm not properly dressed."

"You're just in your pjs, it's not like there are any guys around, unless we make noise." Sarah led Mary to the living room. There, piled all on top of the coffee table, were packages wrapped in festive paper.

"So, who's should we open first?" Sarah asked.

"You're the host," Mary said. "You've been so kind, letting me stay with you. It should be you who goes first."

Sarah looked down, then, uncharacteristically, took Mary's hand.

"We'll open 'em together!"

The two young ladies jumped onto the couch - well, Sarah did. Mary sat down as gracefully as ever, even in her pajamas. Sarah picked up one of the packages, and handed it to Mary. "This one's 'To: Mary. From: Mrs. Stevens." Mary opened the package slowly and gracefully. Sarah giggled.

"What?"

"You're not gonna save the paper, are you?" Sarah asked.

"Well..."

"Just tear into it!" Sarah laughed.

Mary did not attack her present as eagerly as Sarah did, but she unwrapped it a little quicker than she had before. Inside was an almanac on all the best sights and places in New York City. With it was a small note.

_Dear Mary,_

_Here's something everyone who visits New York should have. Use wisely._

_Mrs. S._

Sarah's first present was a deep red purse from Lilian: not exactly very expensive, but enough to show that she had enough to 'throw away', apparently. Being one of Sasha's cohorts came with a prerequisite and a price; the first was that you had to be rich and the second usually meant flaunting your wealth.

"Here's one from Will," Sarah said, picking up a rather large, long gift. It was wrapped in newspaper and tied with red ribbons and a green bow atop. Mary opened it and, to her surprise and Sarah's, it was revealed to be...

"A lute!" Mary exclaimed.

"Damn!" Sarah echoed. "That's way too much for him to spend. We have to..."

But before she could say anything, Mary saw a note lying under the strings. She picked it up and opened it.

_Dear Mary,_

_Here's a little something from Roger and I. Never give up on your dreams, no matter how wild they are. - Will_

_Consider us even. - Roger_

When Sarah saw the note, she didn't think of taking the guitar back.

They carried on through their presents. Sarah had the most - many of which came from Sasha and her friends, things that were expensive enough to show that they were financially affluent. But neither she nor Mary said anything about it.

Mary had a total of four gifts, two of which were now sitting unopened along with one long package.

"Here," Sarah picked up one of the ones marked to Mary. "This one's from me." Mary opened it, and inside there was a deep, violet sweater.

"How lovely!" Mary exclaimed.

"I wanted to get you something brighter," Sarah returned. "I think you wear too much black and purple. You look like a bruised goth."

"A what?"

"A goth," Sarah said. "You know, those antisocial people who always dress in black."

Mary didn't know what to think of this. It was a good present, and there had actually been a 'goth' girl at ESU, whom Mary had helped with her mathematics homework. She was nice, a little introverted, but hardly antisocial. Mary wanted to say something, to speak out on Maddie's behalf, but she also didn't want to ruin the day.

"I like it." Mary said, folding the sweater and placing it with the guitar and almanac. Sarah, on the other hand, felt rotten. She knew that Will and Roger weren't exactly wealthy, yet they could somehow - while probably forgoing much more essential needs - afford to get Mary a guitar. And all she got her was a bargain sweater.

"Here, this one's to you..." Sarah said, picking up one of the other packages. "Oooh!"

"What?"

"It's from Joe."

Mary blushed. She began opening it while Sarah attacked her last present. In the gift from Joseph was a charm bracelet, with a little silvery cross already hanging from it. Next to it was a tiny heart inscribed with 'Mary' on one side and 'Joe' on the other.

They had been dating for a while since Thanksgiving, and it was common knowledge among their 'group' that they were a couple. But Mary didn't know just how seriously Joseph took them being together. At least, until now...

Mary turned to Sarah, who was now lifting up a dark green dress from her box. It was lovely, with an outer layer of sheer green fabric and an under-layer of black. The skirt went down to just an inch or two from the knees. Not what Mary would call 'modest', but sensual enough for the tastes of the time.

"That one's from Will and I." Mary said.

Without saying another word, Sarah threw the dress onto the couch and ran off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Mary walked after her, and through the door, she could hear soft sobs coming from within.

Suddenly, her cellular phone - the one Kyle had given her - was ringing. She opened it up, and saw that she received a text message from Kyle. Carefully, so as to not touch too many of the tiny buttons, she clicked the message open.

_I know your secret. We need to talk, asap._

* * *

><p>She explained, to the door at least, that she'd be gone for a while, but come back in time for the parade. A taxi-ride later and she was walking briskly up through the apartment to Room 938. She explained herself to Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, that Kyle called and wanted to speak with her.<p>

"He's in his room," Mr. Stevens said.

Mary crossed the hall to his room quickly, then knocked on the door. It opened, and there stood Kyle, a garish sweater upon his usual _Star Trek_ t-shirt.

"Hi, Mary." he said. "Or should I say, Your Majesty?" He bowed, then took a step back, allowing Mary to enter the room.

"What precisely do you mean by that?" She returned, sitting down on his bed and closing the door behind her.

"The gift," he pointed to the Lord of the Rings action figure, sitting on his bed. Next to it was the wrapping paper, and the 'To: From:' label.

"Not many people in the 21st century write their names as 'Marye.'" Kyle said. "So I scanned the signature. Look at this!"

He presented on his computer a photocopy of a document, a letter or a decree, signed by _Marye the Quene_.

"Now, I used to moon-light foiling counterfeits for some bank," Kyle said. "I can detect a forged signature from a mile away. And, aside from the fact that the label is written with a Sharpie, this..." He pointed to the photocopy. "Is identical to this." He pointed to the label, then turned back to Mary.

"You're Mary Tudor, former Queen of England."

She gasped. Her secret was out.

"What I wanna know," Kyle said. "Is how you're in the 21st century. You died in 1558, four hundred and fifty-three years ago."

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"B-Because I don't know." she returned.

Kyle nodded.

"Well, then," he smiled. "It's a good thing I found out first. You know, if word got out that a 16th century noble was alive in the 21st century, it would cause a _big_ stir in the scientific and historical communities. People would be knocking on your door day-in and day-out, not to mention the political scandal that might happen if you head back home."

"You-You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?"

"Mary, you were my friend before I found this out. Way I see it, you're _stil__l_ my friend, and friendship goes a long way with the Kyle. Don't worry, the only one's who'll know about this will be you, me and St. Nick."

"Who?"

"St. Nick?" he asked. "Santa Claus. Father Christmas? Ho ho ho?" He sighed, his hand coming up over his face.

"Just stick with me," he said at last. "I'll fill you in on the past four hundred years or so."

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: There you go, <em>Tera Earth<em>. The plot thickens!)**

**(And I'm introducing a new female character into the story [Maddie the Goth]. I've actually been around gothic people in real life, and, at least when you're alone with them, they show their good side. So yeah, no hate to the people who dress in black [i like black, actually, and love to wear it often. lol].)**

**('Consider us even' may not be that ground-breaking of an apology, but since Roger started it, I guess, in his mind, contributing to this expensive gift was kind of a way of 'apologizing'. After all, he's not the most sensitive person in the world.)**

**(Sarah breaking down is important, just you wait and see.)**


	11. Explanations and Apologies

**(AN: Got a new chapter here, so don't worry.)**

**(Thanks for all the reviews, mostly from _Ifab1ndiya_. As I said before, there had to have been at least _some_ reason for that derogatory moniker to have existed in the first place. When I began writing this story, I believed she was such and had the mission of 'de-bloodying' her. As I dive into this story, as well as writing my own song called "Bloody Mary", I've realized that we have much in common.)**

**(And no, I'm not going to do anything against Kyle's beliefs. The purpose of this story is not to bash one belief [Scientology for example] while uplifting another. Mary was known for persecuting Protestants, people who's beliefs were different than her own. What better way to redeem her than to have her be friends with so many diverse people with differing backgrounds and opinions? That is my idea of a perfect world, where we can be as different as we like and yet get along just the same [forcing anyone or anything to change something that they don't want to change out of their whole hearts with a free will is just another form of tyranny, and it** **_will not bring_**_** peace**_**]).**

**(Sorry for the rant. And sorry if I have ever 100% taken a side on this story. If you've read any of my other works, I think you can tell where I stand.)**

**(On with the story!)**

* * *

><p><strong>Explanations and Apologies<strong>

"She what?" Mary exclaimed.

"Please, stop interrupting me," Kyle said for the umpteenth time. They were spending Christmas night at his house, going over mountains of data, from hard-copies of the Encyclopedia Britannica to Wikipedia and beyond.

"I can't believe that whore's spawn lived longer than me!" Mary said at last. "And they called her reign of heresy a Golden Age!"

"Not a big fan of Anne Boleyn, I take it?" Kyle smartingly returned.

"A fan? I _hate_ her!" she said, a wicked little fire burning in her blue eyes.

"Well, I'd hate anyone who ruined my life too," Kyle shrugged.

"And how do people remember me?" Mary returned. "Because I killed people! How dare they!"

"History's written by the winners, and I guess you had more enemies than friends!"

"It's absurd! They paint me out as this-this hideous, bloated tyrant, thirsty for the blood of the innocent. I was protecting England from heresy, I was being a good daughter of the Church! Need I point out that everyone of those death warrants I signed were against a Protestant heretic?"

"Even Cranmer?"

At this, Mary came to a halt.

"It says here," Kyle said, as he pulled up a PDF page from a biography. "That you kept him in prison even after he had recanted." He turned his chair back around. "Now if you were only trying to rid England of Protestants, what's the deal with Cranmer?"

Mary had nothing to say, she simply turned her face out the window and sat down on the bed, gazing out at the city beyond.

"He was the arch-heretic," she began. "He poisoned my father with his wicked doctrine, his lies."

"You mean he officiated the divorce from your mother and King Henry's marriage to Anne Boleyn?" Kyle crossed his arms. "So, that was no holy crusade against Protestantism, Cranmer, it was just revenge."

Mary said nothing.

"Still," Kyle continued. "I suppose you shouldn't be so up-tight against the Protestants. If it weren't for them, America would be a much different place."

"A much holier and orthodox place." Mary said at last.

"Believe it or not," Kyle continued. "An orthodox, state-religion is exactly what the colonists didn't want. Let me go back to the beginning." He waved Mary over and began typing on his computer, screens appearing and disappearing faster than Mary could keep track.

"Okay," Kyle began. "Your aunt Margaret married James V of Scotland, but their only surviving child was a girl named Mary." He turned, smiling at Mary. "She also was a die-hard Catholic. But, she was also engaged in something of a cold war conspiracy deal against England. Because of her distant relation to King Henry, any children by Mary could succeed to the throne of England if Elizabeth had no children - which she never did.

"There was some treason charge trumped up and Mary got her head cut off."

"How dare she!" Mary said, indicating Elizabeth.

"Well, come on," Kyle shrugged. "You weren't exactly the most tolerant person either."

Mary's eyes hit the floor, a look of extreme humility on her face.

"But, to be fair," Kyle continued. "She ordained that Mary's son James IV would become ruler of England upon her death, becoming James I of England. He set out a couple of religious reforms that the Puritans - die-hard Protestants - were against. So they up and came to America in 1620 and that's why we celebrate Thanksgiving!"

"I remember that part," Mary nodded. "You told me the details this past Thanksgiving."

"Okay, but do you see what I'm getting at? You might have a thing against Elizabeth because of her mother or her mother's faith, but look at all the good that came about because of it!"

"The settling of America?"

"More than that," Kyle went on. "The Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Emancipation Proclamation, the Equal Rights Movement, the Moon Landing! All of that happened in America because we were allowed to live in a world without fear of the rack or the stake."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked.

Kyle turned back to his desk and picked up a photo-copy of the Declaration of Independence.

"'We hold these truths to be self-evident,'" he quoted. "'That all men are created equal. That they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.' Don't you get it? The war might have been against your country and not all of these precepts were fully realized until hundreds of years later, but it was a step in the right direction. It was the end of the absolute monarchs, a time when people could live in peace and freedom without fear of persecution."

"It sounds like anarchy." she returned.

"Okay, maybe that wasn't a good idea," Kyle muttered, his 'Tirion-speech-making' voice subsiding as he picked up a photo-copy of the Constitution.

"'Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble...'

"See?" He rose up from his chair, holding the photo-copy out before her. "You don't have to be afraid of religious persecution anymore. Protestants don't kill Catholics, Catholics don't kill Protestants: you have the freedom to worship in your own way without anyone ever taking that away from you!"

At last it dawned upon Mary. When her father had been seduced, and she bastardized, she turned to the Church for solace, for comfort, for safety. But that Church had been threatened by the Protestants. So, whether to make that world safe or to met her vengeance upon those who were threatening her way of life, she became England's most infamous tyrant (even an alcoholic beverage made with red tomato-juice!).

But this was, apparently, not the 16th century. People could be Protestant, Catholic, Agnostic, homosexual, Scientologist (whatever that was, Mary knew not yet) and anything else they wished to be without fear of reprisal.

She was still silent.

"You okay?" Kyle asked.

"Hmm? Oh, I believe so. It's so much to grasp, all this new information. I have centuries worth of time to learn!"

"Don't worry, I'm like a human computer." Kyle smiled. "You'll be fine."

Mary smiled. Kyle then wished that the artistic fashion of the 16th century didn't hold that smiling was vanity. He thought the moniker "Bloody Mary" would stick less if people got a look at her smile.

"Does anyone else know? That you're not from our time?"

"Sarah may know," Mary stated. "Though she has not spoken of it." Just then, she gasped, a look of horror on her face.

"What? What is it?"

"I left her back at the apartment alone! She was weeping! Oh, I must return at once."

"It's okay, just give me a call when you want a new lesson."

"I will, and Happy Christmas, Kyle."

"Happy Holidays to you, Your Majesty."

"Don't call me that," she returned. "I'm Mary to you."

"As you wish." he bowed, in his best Cary Elwes impersonation.

* * *

><p>She finally arrived at the apartment, to find that Sarah was still inside the bathroom.<p>

"Sarah?"

"Go away." a muffled voice said from the other side.

"I-What?"

"Just go, Mary." It was Sarah. Mary could tell that she had been crying.

"What's wrong, Sarah?" Mary asked. "Please, you can tell me."

The door opened and, to Mary's surprise and slight discomfort, she saw Sarah as she had never seen her before. Still in her pajamas, her hair was a mess and long lines of mascara were running down her face.

"Go away, Mary," Sarah sniffed back tears. "Just go."

"But where will I go?"

"I don't know, Kyle's, Joe's, Will and Roger's, it doesn't matter," Sarah said. "They're better friends than I am."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't understand, do you?"

"Understand what?"

"Will and Roger are poor, they can't afford to be giving you a guitar." Sarah began. "And on top of that, the dress!"

"Don't you like it?"

"It's not the dress," Sarah sighed. "It's the fact that they were willing to give up their year's earnings, probably go hungry for a month, just for their friends. And what did I do? Bought you a cheap, bargain sweater."

"I like the sweater," Mary said.

"It's not that either. I've been a lousy friend this whole time, always short-tempered with you. I'm sorry, I don't deserve to be your friend."

Mary hugged Sarah.

"It's okay," she said. "I consider myself very fortunate to have you as my friend."

_Sometimes, the smallest step in the right direction can have the biggest impact..._

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: I think that's a good enough start on her path towards getting the 'blood' out of her name. So far, Mary's just been 'naturalized' or 'acclimatized' to the 21st century.)<strong>

**(Sorry if you were looking to see Maddie appear in this chapter. I think Mary might meet [lol] back up with her once they get back to ESU - NYC is a big city, I doubt everyone lives on the same block. If I get enough reviews asking for her to appear earlier, she might just appear in the 'New Years' chapter coming up next.)**

**(In case it went over your head, Will and Roger are poor, yet they spent a _lot_ of money to get Mary a guitar and Sarah a [very nice and quite expensive] dress. And Sarah, who's usually very down-to-earth and substantial in her thinking, was reminded of how poor of a friend she's been by the quality of the gifts she gave as opposed to the gifts she received. Yeah, Mary's not the only one who will be 'changed'. [evil-lol])  
><strong>


	12. The New Year

**(AN: Damn, I can't get these chapters out fast enough! [lol])**

**(So many questions to answer! As far as Mary's money situation, that has not been officially settled. Though, for those who were looking for Maddie's appearance, that will tie in with that sub-plot. As far as the present goes [the dress], it's the same as with Kyle's _Lord of the Rings_ action figure: Mary didn't buy it, but she put her name on it just the same. And Sarah's break-down wasn't _just_ because she bought Mary a cheap sweater, but because it, and the more expensive presents from her friends, reminded her of how petty she has been throughout the story.)**

**(Like with _Legally Blond_, the premise of this story is that it's happening in the present day. So here is a little funny chapter concerning the new year!)**

* * *

><p><strong>The New Year<br>**

Five days passed by quicker than they had expected. Soon it was December 30th and the New Year's celebration in Times Square would soon be happening.

Today, for a change, Kyle was at Sarah's apartment, helping Mary with her lessons. Sarah was sitting on the couch - she had the day off - and was flipping through the channels on her television.

"It's fascinating," Mary said to Kyle. "How that television-thing works."

"Yeah," Kyle replied. "If I remember correctly, the camera films something, and the film is then converted to electrical signals, which can then be transmitted across great distances to the receiver here on the television set and bam! We have video!"

"That's amazing!"

Sarah groaned as she passed the _History Channel_. "Not another 2012 thing!"

"What about 2012?" Mary asked.

"Oh, it's part of this whole conspiracy about the Mayan calendar," Kyle answered. "See, their calendar ends some-time in December of next year. And it's believed by some to be a prediction about the end of the world."

"But that's insane!" Mary said. "No man knows when the time of the end shall be."

"Even _if_ you're not religiously affiliated," Kyle added. "It seems a little silly that if the Mayans could have predicted the end of the world hundreds of years in advance, they could have _also_ predicted the coming of the Spaniards to the Americas."

At this, Mary became interested.

"Spaniards?"

"Yes," Kyle said. "I'm surprised _you_ don't know more about it. It was happening in your time, after all."

"I remember vaguely," Mary said. "Some talk about missionaries from Spain sailing across the sea to the New World."

"Yeah, and they wiped out whole nations with nothing more than guns and smallpox," Kyle returned. "Before you say anything about divine right, the Aztecs and the Mayans were there to begin with. It would be like if France invaded England and told everyone to bugger off or die."

Mary didn't say anything.

"To be fair," Kyle added. "We weren't any nicer to the Indians here in North America."

"Okay, enough history lessons, that's what school's for," Sarah interjected. "Have you heard from Joe? Is he coming to the New Year's parade?"

"I don't know," Mary said. "He hasn't returned my calls."

"That's odd," Sarah replied. "You two are usually on the phone for hours on end!"

"Which brings us to something else, Mary," Kyle said. "I know your cellular services are tied in to the Mothership, but please, show a little frugality! I can pay for most of the things you need, but eventually, even the Mothership can't hold everything."

"What _is_ the Mothership, after all?"

"That's classified information," Kyle replied.

"Come on, kiddo!" Sarah entered. "We're all friends here, you can tell us."

"I can't!" he replied. "It's top secret!"

Sarah rolled her eyes and went on about her business.

* * *

><p><em>December 31st, 2011<em>

The plan was to meet at Sarah's apartment around 7 o'clock, then spend the next five hours out on the town, enjoying whatever was open and available to them. That promised not to be much, since many shops and businesses were closing up for the New Year. But Sarah promised that somethings would still be open.

The first to arrive was Kyle, a heavy jacket with a ski-toboggan on his head.

"You're not skiing, Kyle!" Sarah said. "Take the jacket off!"

"It's colder than I thought," he returned.

"Maybe it wouldn't be," she replied. "If you came out of the cave more than once in a while."

Not but a few seconds after Kyle threw himself down on the couch, the doorbell rang again. Sarah ran to answer it, but then turned around and waved Mary over.

"It's for you!" she said with a smile.

Mary walked over to the door and saw, to her great delight, Joe standing there, a smile on his face.

"Hi."

"Hello," she replied slowly, unable to tear her eyes away from him.

Then the sound of feet pounding on the stairs and an annoyed-sounding voice arguing came from the hall.

"The elevator would have been easier!"

"I need to get out more, stretch my legs a bit."

"And kill yourself lugging that heavy thing around?"

"It's my life, it goes with me wherever I go."

"Well, let's hope your life doesn't kill you before 2012 gets here, okay?"

"Okay. You got a deal."

Sarah waved Mary and Joe out of the hallway as the last two members of their party came through.

"Shut up down there!" Someone from the room above called down.

"Up yours!"

"That's not very nice, Rog!"

"You started it, Will. 'I wanna take the stairs. It's healthier that way!'"

"You didn't have to start chewing me out!"

"I won't stop until you listen! You know I know you, and I know you know that I know you."

"You just said that!"

"I know!"

"Oh, good! You guys got here!" Sarah embraced her two friends.

"We took the sub-way," Roger said. He was the first one in. Will brought up the rear, with his heavy jacket on and guitar case on his back. "We were actually one car behind Joe. And we _would_ have been here on time, except somebody just had to bring their guitar with them."

"Lay off it, Rog," Will smiled. "We're here, aren't we?"

With everyone now in tow and ready, they set out from the apartment. Sarah locked up, and they took the elevator on the way down. Mary kept herself in arm-lock of Joseph, while Sarah and Kyle just stared around awkwardly. Everyone was paired up except for them - and they were old friends who'd known each other since the cradle, and it just didn't seem right for them to consider...

Fortunately, Will and Roger's bickering was hardly detrimental. In fact, once they were out of the apartment, everyone seemed to be in good spirits. Verily, Will and Roger were the life of the party. They always had the best jokes and the funniest anecdotes to share with the group. Even Sarah, usually so up-tight and serious, was cracking a smile.

Around six, they had dinner at a small Italian restaurant. They sat down at a booth, with Joe, Mary and Sarah on one end and Will, Roger and Kyle on the other. In good time, a waitress approached their table to take their order.

"Mary!" the waitress smiled in Mary's direction. "It's me. It's Maddie."

"Oh, hello, Maddie," she nodded. "I didn't recognize you."

"Yeah, well, I work here," Maddie said. "And my usual wardrobe is against the dress-code. Normally, I wouldn't give a damn, but I kind of need this job. So, can I take your orders?"

Will and Roger, the hungriest of the group, ordered spaghetti and meatballs for both of them. The rest would share a deep-dish New York-style _pizza_, with plenty of bread-sticks to go around!

"Seriously," Sarah said to Kyle, Joe and Mary. "Two slices of that is more than enough to fill you up."

"But it's just pizza." Kyle replied.

"You've never had _pizza_ until you've had it here," Sarah stated.

"She's right," Maddie replied. "Any drinks?"

She left back to deliver their order - the _pizza_ pie, the spaghettis, one root beer, three cokes and a water. Mary wanted to order wine for herself, but since the only ID she had was her school ID and not a driver's license, that wasn't a possibility. Joseph said they would share his coke.

The drinks came first, and Sarah told everyone not to finish them all now before their food got here. Joseph asked for an extra straw, which he put into his glass and Mary and he sipped out of the same cup together.

"That's so sweet," Will said. "It's like _Lady and the Tramp_." He turned Roger. "Why don't we ever do stuff like that?"

"Because I hate water," Roger replied.

"It's good for you," Will retorted. "Keeps your singing voice healthy, gets rid of infections..."

"Yeah, yeah, and cures ED, and all that," Roger good-naturedly returned. "I know, I know, but it's so tasteless and bland!"

"You should give it a try more often," Will said before taking a sip of his water.

"Okay, okay," Roger admitted. "At least it's better than root beer."

"You and Garak are the only ones who don't like root beer," Kyle returned.

"Who's Garak?" Will asked.

"Some alien from a _Star Trek_ spin-off show," Sarah dismissed.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Kyle defended. "It might not be _TNG_ _II_, but there's a lot to be said for _DS9_."

While Kyle and Sarah started going over which _Star Trek_ was better, Maddie re-appeared with their food. Mary saw, as Maddie was drawing away from the table, that she flashed Kyle a wide smile.

Suddenly, a match-making part of Mary came out that moment that even she never thought she possessed.

"Maddie," she said, as the waitress was leaving. She came to a halt, her pony-tail swishing as she turned around. "Would you like to come with us? We're going to see the New Year's celebration at the Square of Time."

"You mean Times' Square?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Yeah, why not?" Maddie shrugged. "After all, we're closing up in thirty minutes. Can you guys eat that fast?"

"Oh, we're good," Sarah said.

Turns out, good was quite right. Will and Roger plowed through their spaghetti, giving truth to their claims of hunger. The slices of _pizza_ were huge, and Mary had never eaten one before.

"You mean you've _never_ had _pizza_ before?" Roger asked, as if she were joking.

"No, never." she shook her head.

"You have no idea what you're missing," Joe said.

"Really?" Kyle added. "I mean, the precursors of this beloved pie date back before Ancient Greece."

"_Talkin' about Caesar!_" Sarah sing-songed.

"Look at you!" Will said. "Livening up and everything. Made your New Year's resolution early?"

"Actually, Gaius Julius Caesar was Rome, not Greece."

"Oh, shut up, Kyle! No history lessons tonight!" Sarah jokingly said, then turned back to Will. "As a matter of fact, I have."

"So is that what it was?" Will asked. "Acting spontaneous and all?"

"You can't resolve to be spontaneous," Kyle reasoned. "Because spontaneity can't be planned."

"Close the dictionary, Kyle!" Sarah said. "Let that be _your_ New Year's resolution."

"I'm proud of the knowledge I know," Kyle said.

"Loud and proud, kiddo!" Roger exclaimed, holding his hand up for a high-five from Kyle.

"No, seriously," Will returned. "What _is_ your New Year's resolution, Sarah?"

"To move on," she said. "There's a lot of things in my life that I've been refusing to let go. I'll start there, then work my way through."

"Can't think of a better one," Will said with pride for his friend.

"What about you?" Sarah returned.

"To stop wearing socks with sandals." he said.

"It was my idea." Roger said.

"What's the big deal, huh? It's not like I've ever cared much about fashion."

"It's not fashion," Roger replied. "It's plain ridiculous. You wear sandals because you want to show your feet off, and you wear socks to keep your shoes from smelling."

This banter continued through their meal, while the others ate and/or talked about whatever came to mind. Kyle didn't have much to say - he was usually to be found in his room, so he didn't get around much. Joe and Mary kept most to themselves, eyes practically glued to each other. Will and Roger always had something to say.

At last, when it seemed that nobody could eat anymore - Will and Roger ended up taking two slices of _pizza_ for their own, they were so hungry (Mary and Joe only split two between each other, since the portions were too large for both of them to have two each) - they paid the bill.

Or, at least, tried to...

"Here, I got it." Will said, reaching into his pocket.

"No, don't you dare!" Sarah returned, half-jokingly and half-serious. "You'll be broke within a week with that attitude! Here, let me pay."

"Come on," Roger interjected. "We've recovered from the Holidays. We can afford to splurge."

"I insist I pay for the bill." Sarah replied.

"And I insist that _I_ pay." Will retorted.

"How about we _all_ pitch in for the bill?" Joe suggested.

"Deal!" Kyle said, before anyone could object, and placed a few bills in the center of the table. Sarah and Will started arguing over how much they would contribute, both of them wanting to pay more than the other.

"What's wrong, Mary?" Joseph asked. She kept her eyes down and her smile had faded.

"I haven't got any money," she returned.

"It's okay," Joe said. "I'll cover you."

"No, I couldn't..."

"Hey, what are boyfriends for?" he jokingly asked.

"Thank you," she said quietly, as he deposited a few extra bills into his share.

It took Maddie showing up and reminding them that they were closing in fifteen minutes before Will and Sarah could finally come to an agreement about how much of the bill they would split.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, the restaurant's neon signs went dim and after everything was cleaned up for the night, the employees clocked out and went home. One, however, did not. Maddie chose not to change out of her uniform and instead threw a heavy jacket over it and followed the group - now seven strong - as they made their way down the streets of New York.<p>

Broadway was packed with people and noises from the street and all over. It would be very difficult for the group of seven to navigate through the crowded streets to a close spot. Already the roar was becoming nigh deafening.

"Hey, Mary," Maddie spoke loudly near Mary's ear - not intentionally, but because of the roar of the crowd, it was essential.

"Yes?" she called back.

"I saw what happened at the restaurant," she said. "If you need a job, just ask. We're still hiring at the restaurant."

"You'd do that for me?" Mary asked.

"Yeah, why not? I'll even be your reference."

"Thank you, Maddie. That's most kind of you."

On they marched, with Roger, the strongest member of the group, pushing through the sea of people to get the others a good spot to watch. Unfortunately, they still had quite a ways to go before they would be within sight of the ball that would be dropped at the stroke of twelve.

"There it is! I see it!" Joseph, the tallest of the group, pointed out.

Whether by straining or looking up, most of the group could look over the heads of the crowd and catch a glimpse of the ball as it was slowly making its way down.

"Mary," Roger called back. "Having trouble seeing the show?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." she returned.

"Come on," he said. "Hop up on my shoulders, you'll have a better view from up there."

"What?" she was surprised at this. "But I thought you didn't like me! Because I am Catholic."

"It's a new year, a fresh start," Roger said. "What do you say?"

* * *

><p><em>December 31st, 2011. Two Minutes to Midnight<em>

All across the United States, yeah, even the world, they awaited the coming of the New Year. In England, they received the time change hours ahead of America. For the rest of the world, the year had changed.

In the west, two minutes remained from the stroke of twelve. Times Square in New York City was packed, with gallons upon gallons of ticker tape ready to be thrown down upon the crowd as the clock struck twelve. The chill air bit noses and ears, turning them a brilliant shade of red.

One minute left.

In a certain area of Times Square, the daughter of Henry VIII was about to see the year Two Thousand and Twelve. It was all so unreal, to her, that she could even be living this long. Yet here she was, four hundred years and more displaced from her time. Had her fortunes improved? She was not queen, but she still had friends: Kyle the braniac, his heavy jacket making him look like one of the children from _A Christmas Story_, the handsome Joseph her boyfriend, Will and Roger - so odd and so different yet so lovable, her Calculus class-mate Maddie Lebowitz, and Sarah, her best and first friend in this new age.

She was smiling from atop Roger's broad shoulders.

"_Twenty!_"

Though some had begun counting down earlier, more people started joining in now.

"_Nineteen...Eighteen...Seventeen...Sixteen...Fifteen!_"

That number grew, until it sounded like the ocean itself was roaring out the last seconds of the year 2011.

"_Fourteen...Thirteen...Twelve...Eleven!_"

The group of friends all joined in, adding their voices to those of the crowd.

"_Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One!_"

2012 had come at last.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Horay!)<strong>

**(As far as this chapter goes, I think it is well-deserved. Our characters needed a chapter where everyone was in good spirits and there wasn't a lot of conflict going on - and that's what this chapter was all about.)**

**(Yay! We got to see Maddie! Not much about her revealed yet, but now that she's been seen in a chapter, she'll be bound to appear later on [yes, she's ethnically Jewish and working at an Italian restaurant - never said she was _orthodox_].)**

**(As far as appearances go, I don't think there's any questions about Mary: she's based on her depiction in _The Tudors_ [that's what this ff is based off of, after all]. The other characters, well, here's how it goes. Will is about average height, with long hair [he spent a lot of time homeless, so I guess he kind of grew to like longer hair], Joseph is tall and fit, Kyle is thin and pale [most people who live at their computers are], Roger is broad-shouldered, very strong, though not as tall as Joseph: probably has facial hair. Sarah could either be blond or brunette, but I'm getting a strong Zooey Deschanel vibe from her either way [that's just me].**** Maddie is shapely, and good-looking, even if I do say so myself.)**

**(That's just my imagination of how they might appear. [please, if you had ideas of your own, share them in the reviews]. And no, I didn't give Will long hair and Roger facial hair because I'm conforming to any stereotype about gays. Most of my male characters in this story are clean-shaven, so I wanted to be different and give Roger a more edgy look.)**

**(No, we're not wrapping the story up here. I've got plenty more planned out, and I aim to get that onto paper [or Doc Manager, as the case may be] as soon as possible. I just needed a light, merry chapter before the heavy stuff happens [big things in store for the 2012 portion of this story!])**


	13. Complications

**(AN: Now we're in 2012, and the story is more or less caught up to speed with the present time)**

**(Thank you, once again, for all the reviews [and now I've got Hayley Cucuo in my head as Sarah Leeland. lol, but that's not unwelcome, so thank you]. Just to clear things up, Mary is in her early-to-mid twenties, so she looks how she appeared in _Tudors_ seasons 3 and early 4. That will come into play later on in this story [which you might get to see in this next chapter].)**

* * *

><p><strong>Complications<strong>

It was to be Mary's first day of work. Though she had not worked as the serfs worked in her past life, she had grown accustomed to doing things herself during her first semester at ESU. But now she was happy to be working. She would be doing something other than just hanging onto the belts of Sarah or Joseph. As much as she loved them, it felt good to stand on ones' own two feet.

Maddie had been true to her word and got her a job at the Italian restaurant at which they had enjoyed New Year's Eve. Sarah, who was no stranger to the job market, gave Mary some tips on what to expect and how she would conduct herself.

That morning in the apartment, Mary was in the bathroom, examining her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing her new uniform - a white shirt, black pants and a red apron with the restaurant's logo and her name (spelled _M-a-r-y_) on a tiny tag attached to it.

"You all ready, Mar?" Sarah asked, peering through the doorway.

"Yes, I believe so." she nodded.

"Make sure you wear your hair back," Sarah reminded her. "You've got pretty hair, but people don't want it in their food."

Mary made a noise of disgust. It was not a pleasant idea, though.

"You'll do fine," Sarah said, giving Mary a friendly pat on the arm.

Mary smiled.

Minutes later they were in the elevator.

"Okay," Sarah said. "I can give you a few bucks for bus-fair, but I'm working later than you are. So I've arranged for Joe to pick you up from work and bring you back here. That okay?"

"Yes, that is well." Mary replied.

"Here," Sarah placed a tiny silver thing into Mary's hand.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A spare key to the apartment," she said. "In case I have to work late. Don't share it with anyone else, understand?"

"Of course."

Moments later, the door chimed and Mary was on her way.

"Good luck!" Sarah waved back.

* * *

><p>Mary was a hit. True, she had literally no experience as a worker, but she took to her new job with great efficiency. Towards the end of her first day, as they were closing up, Maddie jokingly said that if Mary kept this up, she'd be up for promotion on her second day.<p>

It was a joke, but it was meant to congratulate her on her performance.

Joseph was there, of course, at the end of the day, to take Mary back to the apartment. Then, sealed with a kiss, she went into the elevator and returned to the room. Sarah was not there, must be working late, and so Mary let herself in and removed her working uniform as quickly as possible.

Just then, she received a call on her cellular phone.

"Yes, this is Mary." she said, without checking to see who it was.

"Hey, it's Kyle," he returned. "I heard on the grape-vine that you're working."

"Grape-vine?"

"Just an expression," he replied. "School's coming back up shortly. Is your boss okay with you taking the mornings off for school?"

"I believe so," Mary answered. "I have not yet decided whether or not I will return to ESU."

"Well, if you need any help, just give me a call, okay?"

"Oh, wait! Um, there are these small packages of food in the...refrigerator-thing. What are they?"

"Microwave dinners," Kyle said. "Look on the counter for the small white box with a clear door."

She looked around.

"I see it."

"Okay, that is the microwave," Kyle began. "It's like an oven, only it works faster. You put one of those microwave dinners in the microwave, follow the instructions on the box and you should be fine."

"I see. Thank you."

"No problem, Your Majesty."

"Please, just Mary."

Kyle laughed. "Whatever you say. Later."

_Click_.

* * *

><p>Over the next several days, Mary worked at the little restaurant. She did not get that promotion on the second day, or even the third day. Sarah usually worked late, and so it was that, in want of company, Mary would ask Joe to stay with her for a few extra hours. He helped her map out a class schedule for the next year and, the next day, she told her boss that she would soon be starting school again.<p>

So it was that, one cab ride to ESU later, Mary found herself walking to her morning class with Maddie in tow. She was wearing black - all black. Mary didn't matter, she was fond of black as well: a black skirt that was just barely two inches from her ankles, black shoes and stockings and a black top covered over with her purple sweater.

As they were walking, they were joined by someone else.

"Excuse me, ladies. May I have word with you?"

They both turned around. Standing there was one of the professors of ESU. He was about middle-aged, with a full head of hair that was only beginning to recede, a fine brown suit and glasses. He looked like one who, from all appearances, was a trust-worthy source of knowledge.

"Yes, sir?" Maddie asked.

"Actually, Miss Lebowitz, I'm here for her," the professor pointed to Mary.

"Me?" she asked.

"Yes, don't you remember?" he asked. "I'm Professor Hawkins, you were in my Calculus class last semester."

"Oh, right." Mary smiled. "How do you do, professor?"

"I'm fine," he replied. "Listen, I just wanted to say congratulations."

"On what, if I may ask?"

"Well, you passed my class with flying colors," he said. "That's not an easy thing to do."

"Well, I only tried..."

"Yeah, don't be modest. You've got the potential to be an Honor Role student, and I want to recruit you."

"Oh, please excuse me, I must get to class before I'm late."

"Don't want that, do we? Run along, now."

They turned and left, and Professor Hawkins went back to his own class. That girl was a mystery. He had had her for barely a semester, but she was one of the top five students in his class. What really baffled him was that so many little things about her seemed..._off_. She never used a calculator, and she asked some of the most ridiculous questions: not _stupid_ questions, but questions that should be so obvious.

What's more, she only had a first name on his roster.

"Talk about a major creep," Maddie said as they walked off.

"Why do you say that?" Mary asked. "He seems nice."

"Nice?" Maddie scoffed. "Yeah, as nice as a snake. He's bad news."

"I don't see what you mean."

"He has a daughter who goes to ESU," Maddie said. "Probably the biggest b*tch in ESU. Thinks that because her daddy's a rich university professor that makes her queen of the school." She rolled her eyes. "This isn't high school. Nobody gives a damn about who's popular and who's not."

Just then, a thought crossed Mary's mind.

"What is her name?"

"Whose?"

"Professor Hawkins' daughter?"

"Sasha, I think."

* * *

><p>That evening, Mary and Joseph were on their way up to the apartment. She jiggled the door-handle, it was locked.<p>

"She must be working late again," Mary said to Joe. Keys out, she opened the door and walked inside. "Come on in, please."

He took off his hat and walked in after her. They talked a little at first, about this and that, as Mary tried to figure out how to pop a bag of microwaved popcorn. In the end, Joe offered her a hand, which she accepted. He had rented a movie that they would be watching together.

So there they were, sitting on the couch, watching this sappy love story. But about half-way through it, neither of them were paying much attention. Eyes met, then Joseph pretended to stretch, and his arm went to rest around Mary's shoulders. Then he was playing with her hair, then she was playing with _his_ hair.

Then they were joined at the mouth. Mary wrapped her arms around Joseph, as if she could not be close enough to him...

And suddenly pulled away.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"No," she half-sobbed. "I can't do this."

"Do what?" he asked again. There was no anger, no frustration in his voice: only concern.

"I love you, Joseph," she said. "But I..." She paused. "I cannot give you my maiden-head." _Was that a lie, _she asked herself. Did she and Philip ever consummate, she could not rightly recall - then again, some four-hundred and fifty-three years had gone by.

"I'm sorry," he shook his head. "I shouldn't have done that."

"No, it's not you," she returned. "If I were to...to..."

"Make love?"

"Yes," she stammered. _Oh, by the Holy Virgin, this is awkward!_ she thought. "If I were to make love to you, it would be as...as..." She could not dare to utter those words.

"Are you saying," he replied, trying to guess what she was saying. "That you're saving yourself for marriage?"

"Yes, yes, that's it." she answered. _He can even guess what I'm thinking_. _Oh, but what if I say the wrong thing and lose him? I don't want to lose him, even if as just a boyfriend_...

"Look, I'm sorry I tried to push you into this," he apologized. "It won't happen again, I promise."

"It is not for lack of love that I refuse you this," she said. "But for the sake of love."

"That didn't make much sense, but I guess I can go with that." He picked up the remote control and turned off the movie.

"Please, do not be angry with me!"

"I'm not mad!" he said honestly. "I'm not even disappointed. If anything..." _Oh, why am I saying this?_ "If anything, I'm a little embarrassed."

"Oh, Joseph!" she wrapped her arms around him. "Can we please forget that this happened?"

"Sure, anything you say."

And so they parted for the night, with only one more kiss.

But once Joseph was gone, Mary broke down. Just the thought of _that_ brought even more fears to her mind. Though she was unfamiliar with the customs of this day, she was no fool. She knew what the product of consummation was...

And she also remembered that she never had children. To the contrary, something was wrong with her inside that had caused her to die.

The fear of dying again, of the long, slow and agonizingly painful death gripped her in the dark solitude of the apartment.

Out came the cell-phone, and she typed in a number.

"Hey, I'm working late. What's up?" Sarah's voice asked.

"I need to see a physician."

"What?"

"A doctor!" she was trying hard to keep herself together.

"What, right _now_?"

"No, I just need to see a doctor as soon as possible."

"Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I just need a doctor."

"Okay, okay! I'll come over there right away."

"No, not right now. I just need to see a doctor, in the morning."

"Are you absolutely sure you're alright?"

"I'm not sure."

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: New chapter, and one that's not so cheery.)<strong>

**(Well, I don't think she'd enjoy the idea of dying again. And that scene with Joseph, I don't know: I felt like it could have gone better. I want them to marry for _love_, not lust. And they won't make love until they _are_ married - horay for Joseph and his self-restraint!)**

**(So the plot thickens and the first strings of the symphony that is to come have been played!)**

**(What do you think? I'll explain why she broke down at the end in the next chapter, so don't worry.)**


	14. Women Problems

**(AN: My knowledge of the medical field is probably more lacking than my in-depth knowledge of _Tudor_-lore. So sorry, pre-med/med-students, if I butcher my way through this chapter with medical impossibilities. I assure you, it's not my intention.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Women Problems<br>**

Predictably, Kyle soon found out about what was going on. Sarah called him shortly after Mary's sobbing phone-call, and asked him for a favor. Though he never mentioned it, Kyle had access to unnatural amounts of money. This 'Mother-ship' of his was a secret account that housed his main assets, which he would use for whatever reason. How he got said funds, however, was a secret to them all.

He arranged for a transfer for Mary's hospital bill, since she didn't have insurance. Then, after hearing Sarah describe what was wrong, he booted up his computer and opened the file with the title 'Marye'. Since there was so much that he could not have his mountains of encyclopedia open at all times, he created a profile of all known data on Mary, from both her own descriptions and the 'historical know'.

Her physical health folder was more or less empty, aside from a few tid-bits of historical information. This was what Kyle needed. There was one tiny article that caught his attention.

Using his computer's head-set, he made a quick phone-call to Mary's cell, listed in his contacts with a smiling picture of her face. After a few minutes of empty ringing, her voice sounded on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mary, it's Kyle," he said. "Listen, Sarah just called me, said you were going to the hospital. Is everything alright?"

"I don't know!" she returned.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," she answered. "Although..."

"What is it?"

"I was thinking, and..."

"And what?"

"It's not something a lady should discuss with a gentleman!"

"I'm flattered, Mary, but right now, we need to know what's wrong."

"I don't think I can bare children!"

This caught Kyle off-guard. He re-opened the 'Marye' file and opened the medical records sub-folder.

"According to historians," he said. "You died of a malignant uterine tumor. Don't worry, we can get that fixed."

"You can?" she asked.

"Just call Sarah back," he said. "Tell her you need to see a gynecologist instead."

"What's that?" Mary asked.

Kyle cleared his throat. "It's a doctor who takes care of..." Ahem again. "...women problems. It would be better to go there instead of the doctors and have them run a sea of tests on you before telling you to go to the gynecologist."

"I see," Mary replied.

"Hey, don't be upset!" Upset was hardly a strong enough word to describe what Mary must be going through, but Kyle had to try some kind of encouragement. "We're gonna get through this."

"Thank you, Kyle."

* * *

><p>What had started out as a private matter between three people now escalated into something all seven of them knew about. Will called Kyle about something he and Roger were setting up that would involve Sarah, since Sarah's phone was busy, and he let slip about Mary going to the doctor. Of course Mary had to call the restaurant and take the day of the appointment off, so Maddie found out that way. Then a thoroughly-embarrassed Joseph called Mary, apologizing over and over for his behavior, and she told him that they couldn't make their arranged Tuesday date because of her appointment.<p>

So it was that when Tuesday rolled around, the waiting room was packed with people. The nurse at the front desk was a little suspicious, especially at seeing all these men at the office of a gynecologist. Just didn't seem right.

Then Sarah showed up with Mary in tow, and the arguments started.

"What are you guys doing here?" Sarah asked. "This isn't exactly a place where I expected to see you _guys_ hanging out."

"We're here for Mary," Will said. "For moral support."

"She's just going in for a check-up!" Sarah asked. "It's not she's under-going surgery."

"We'll pay for the bill!" Will offered.

"Shut up, Will!" Roger retorted. "We can't be paying for everyone's everything!"

"Rog's right, I'll pay." Sarah repeated.

"It's okay," Kyle reassured them. "The Mothership's got it covered."

"If anyone's paying," Joseph interjected. "It'll be me."

"Why's that?" Maddie asked.

"'Cuz it's my fault this happened!"

This kind of lighthearted bickering when on for a few minutes until the nurse told them to quiet down. Now they were all sitting down, with Mary looking rather uncomfortable in between Sarah and Maddie at the far-end.

Then the nurse appeared.

"The doctor will see you now."

Mary rose sheepishly and walked after the nurse, a look of fear on her face. Sarah was the first one up.

"I'll go with her." she volunteered.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, a very relieved Mary and Sarah exited the office. The others had been told to wait outside the building, since they were not there for the doctor and were taking up the chairs for those who were.<p>

"So?" Joseph asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Quite alright, it seems," Sarah replied. "The doctor said they couldn't find anything wrong with Mary. She's as healthy as a horse."

A general cheer was taken up, and Mary was doing her best to keep her tears back. As they were beginning to disperse, Will and Roger hailed a taxi while Kyle pulled Mary aside.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Something doesn't add up." he said.

"What is that?"

"Well, according to historical accounts, you died because of...well, something of a tumor in your uterus." Mary blushed. "I know, not something a guy should be talking about, right? But then why didn't the doctor find anything?"

"I don't know," Mary wondered. Maybe whatever had caused her to be rejuvenated had removed her sickness, or since this was a 'new' body, it did not have the same ailments as her old body had. "Nevertheless, I do not feel right about questioning this."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

"Stop it!" she playfully slapped his shoulder. _Their behavior is rubbing off on me!_ she thought.

"Seriously, when are you going to tell them?" he indicated to the others, but Mary, being a keen-eyed, knowing woman - with many years of experience over the young Kyle - saw that he was looking at one of them in particular, though it wasn't exactly intentional.

"I think Sarah may know," she answered at first. Then, looking and seeing what Kyle was looking at, added. "But I think you should say something to her."

"Huh? Who?"

"Maddie," she answered. "I've seen the way you look at her."

"'Look at her?'" he repeated.

"There's no need to be shy," she smiled. "Simply tell her your heart."

"But what if she doesn't like me?" he let slip, then instantly threw his hands up over his mouth as if he said something wrong. Mary simply rolled her eyes and smiled.

"You can only try, Kyle. The rest is up to her." _And God_, she thought.

He didn't look very pleased.

* * *

><p>Once they had all departed (Joseph driving his truck back to wherever he lived), since they had the rest of the day to themselves, Sarah and Mary invited Maddie over to their apartment.<p>

Back at the apartment, Maddie sat herself upon the couch while Sarah checked the mail and Mary came to sit at her side. Not but a few seconds later, Sarah was back.

"Hey, Mads,"

"'Mads?'" Maddie asked. "That's a guy's name!"

"Madster?"

"Call me Maddie."

"Whatever, hey, come here!"

"Why?"

"I wanna do your make-up," Sarah responded. "You know, with just a little bit of eye-shadow and blush...hopefully, you won't look like a corpse."

"Sarah!" Mary retorted.

"What?"

"That is so mean of you to say such things!" she turned back to Maddie. "I think she's beautiful, and needs no make-up to add to her beauty."

"Still," Sarah suggested. "I know exactly what she needs."

At this, Maddie laughed. Sarah simply groaned and stormed off into the bathroom to do her own make-up.

"What?" Mary queried.

"What she said," Maddie giggled. "It reminds me of something from a show I saw...Oh God, it must have been eight years ago!"

"A show?" Mary repeated.

"You know, like on Broadway?" Maddie added. "I begged my parents to take me, and I absolutely loved it. You should come see it with me."

"What is it called?"

But just as the words were coming out of Maddie's mouth, the sound of a yelp came from the bathroom.

"Sarah!" Mary cried, jumping to her feet.

"I'm alright!" her voice returned. "I just slipped."

"Well, please, do be careful." she then turned back to Maddie.

"So," she asked. "How do you find Kyle?"

"Uh, Kyle?" Maddie asked sheepishly. "Um, he's kinda cute, and he's smart. I mean, he knows a lot of cool, interesting stuff. And we're into the same kind of things. And, well..."

Mary smiled, noticing the same kind of entrapped look on Maddie's face as she had seen on Kyle's face.

"What?"

"You like him too, don't you?"

"Don't you dare say anything to him about this!" Maddie pleaded, more than demanded.

"Why not?" Mary asked. "You two would get along famously. It would be simply lovely if you two became a couple."

"I don't know," Maddie replied. "Do you think he likes me? I mean, if _I_ were a guy, I wouldn't like me."

"Why not?"

"I'm fat," she stated.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you are not."

"Yes, I am!"

"Maddie," Mary said. "You're barely any bigger than I am, and I'm not fat either."

"But...But..."

"But what?"

"I mean, what if he doesn't like me that way? What if he doesn't notice me?"

"You needn't parade yourself before him," Mary said. "Just try to make your paths cross a little more than usual. He will come around and ask you himself."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I will make sure that he does."

"But you promised..."

"I haven't promised anything yet," Mary 'fiendishly' replied, a smile cracking her face.

"Mary!"

"I won't tell him how you feel about him," Mary concluded. "But I will try to help him...get out more often. He _does_ spend too much time in-doors. And I will try to make him more straight-forward in his conversations with you."

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"I'll try to get him to talk to you," Mary clarified. "But it is _you_ who has to make the effort."

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Two-fold meaning for that chapter!)<strong>

**(Pretty much, her reincarnated body [as we can call it] doesn't have _that_ problem that she died from before. However, as far as recessive and dominant traits, I'm probably not as good a geneticist as I am one who tries to use medical terminology! So when that time comes [major spoilers], I may need some help there)**

**(Yes, I'm having Mary play the match-making role between Kyle and Maddie. And Sarah will have something happen as well [that call that Roger was making will appear later, either in this story or in the Will and Roger epic]).**

**(I could keep this story going almost indefinitely. Though I am tempted to do so, how long do you think I should go? Any other questions, comments or concerns related to this chapter or the story so far? Leave them in the reviews, I will try to address them all a.s.a.p.)**


	15. Emergency Meeting

**(AN: "It's joined the Choir Invisible!", from _Monty Python's_ "Dead Parrot" sketch, came as inspiration for the title of this story - and because I'm also feeling, like Mary [and someone else mentioned in this chapter], part of the Choir Misunderstood.)**

**(So yeah, thank you for all the reviews [ALL of them!]. As far as the ideas, I had envisioned _both_ of those endings happening. How I might make the _first_ one happen, though, without it seeming too science-fictional or fantasy-based, is the hard thing. Just keep on watching, I think you'll like how it ends [when it eventually _does_ end])**

* * *

><p><strong>Emergency Meeting of the Choir Misunderstood<strong>

So the days ticked by one by one, and winter passed relatively slowly. Mary became friends with most of Sarah's companions, save for Sasha, who was too snobbish to be bothered with. In time, Mary learned somewhat how to gauge the mood of her new friends. Most of them were rather easy-going except for Roger, who would go into tirades of angry ranting and raving every time he saw a religious icon. Mary kept her rosary out of sight whenever he was around, and felt uncomfortable doing so.

_If this is the "Land of the Free and Home of the Brave"_ (as Kyle had so aptly put it once), she thought, _Why must I be forced to hide what I believe in just for the sake of his happiness?_

Work was enjoyable, as much as work can be. She enjoyed spending time with Maddie, who slowly began to warm up to the idea of Kyle. Several times Mary tried to get them together alone, with less than adequate results. They were both so embarrassed that they never had more to say to each other than a few words.

As for Joseph, the events of that one day were seemingly forgotten and long in the past. He never brought the subject up again, never even tried to make love to her. It was both a great relief and a little bit of a nerve-wracker. She always feared that, one day, they would be together alone and his resolve would break. After all, though she tried to remain humble by not flaunting her beauty, she was quite fair to say the least. It would be a temptation, and she feared that maybe Joseph's resolve to acknowledge her desire to wait until marriage wouldn't last.

Nevertheless, things continued to go on smoothly for them. In fact, all things considered, they were now closer than ever before. Everyone knew when Joseph would call Mary on her cellular phone because she would smile the instant she heard his voice.

* * *

><p>Less than six days before the month of February, Mary and Maddie went on their little outing to Broadway to see the performance of a certain musical that Maddie had suggested. Tickets were expensive, and very hard to get, since the show was almost always sold out, but they were able to get (quite literally) the last two tickets.<p>

Now they stood outside the Gershwin Theater, trying in vain to hail a taxi and chatting about the show.

"What did you think?" Maddie asked.

"It was…different," she said. Definitely different than the gaudy plays of her days – she was a little shocked when she learned that there would actually be _women_ performing up on-stage.

"But you did like it, didn't you?"

"Yes," she silently replied. Deep down inside, she was slowly empathizing with the character. Like her, she herself had only wanted to do right by what she believed in, and the whole world had called _her_ a monster as well. Whatever else she thought about the show was slightly eclipsed by this association with the misunderstood green-skinned girl on-stage.

Just then, her phone, which had been obediently silent throughout almost two hours of the play, was ringing. She picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, kiddo," Kyle's voice answered on the other end. "I'm at the apartment, we need to talk."

"Very well."

"It's urgent!"

The call ended, and Mary was struck by the tone of haste in Kyle's voice. He usually seemed so calm and collected, as though he could overcome anything the world threw his way (though he never really experienced much).

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, they finally were able to hail a taxi, which ferried Mary back to the apartment. She waved good-bye to Maddie, without thinking that she should have invited her in to hang out with Kyle.<p>

_Oh well_, she thought. _There's always next time. And if this is urgent, maybe this would not be the best of times either._

Mary took the elevator to her floor, knocked on the door and walked into the living room. Sitting on the sofa, with his laptop on his lap, was none other than Kyle. Sarah shut the door behind her.

"I'm here," Mary said. "What's the matter? Your call sounded urgent."

"It is," Kyle said. "Your ESU student account has been viewed at least fifty times from the faculty server."

"What does that mean?" a flummoxed Mary asked.

"Someone's digging," Kyle said. "And if they dig too deep, it'll spell trouble for us all."

"Why?" Sarah asked. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Mary doesn't have current birth-records or any kind of ID," Kyle said. "Other than the one I made for her. If they find out that's a fake, she'll probably get suspended or worse, charged with falsifying information."

"It's untrue! I haven't falsified anything!"

"I know you haven't, Mary," Kyle said. "It's me. I made the ID so you could get into ESU. You're not at fault, but this does concern you." Kyle began typing. "If they find out about the Mother-ship, that will be an even bigger KO to us."

"A what?"

"Knock-out, you know, like a _coup d'grace_. A killing blow."

"Oh."

"Why?" Sarah asked.

"You _do_ know that Mary isn't from around here."

"Yeah, she's from England."

"More like _16th-century_ England!"

"Kyle!"

"Oh my G…"

"I would appreciate if you didn't use that word. It is a vain use of the **LORD**'s name."

"Don't tell me you didn't know already!" Kyle said to Sarah. "I mean, _you_ introduced me to her, I would have thought _you_ knew a little bit more about her."

"Well," Sarah sighed uncomfortably. "I mean, she _did_ say some things that were a little off. You know, about 1558 and such. But I thought she was just…"

"You thought I was what?"

"Not right in the head! You know, 'the lights are on but nobody's home.' 'The stairs don't go up all the way.'"

"You thought I was a lunatic?"

"I'm sure she didn't think that."

"I mean, that's crazy-talk!" Sarah exclaimed.

"I can assure you," Kyle said. "This is quite serious."

"And _you_ believe her!"

"I double-checked her signature," Kyle said. "It's an exact match to the ones we know about."

"It could be a fake."

"I am still here!" Mary interjected, a bit of her father's fiery attitude coming out, despite her usual calm and restraint. "And I would be very grateful if you did not speak of me as if I were not."

"Sorry, Mary." Kyle returned.

"Mary, please, tell me you're not serious. I mean, this is just ridiculous! A queen of England jumping through time and landing in the middle of Manhattan. It's like something out of a bad romance novel!"

"I can't explain why I'm here or how it happened," Mary returned, the keys of Kyle's laptop clicking in the background. "But I am what I am. That's all I can be."

"But..." Sarah tried to say. "But..."

"But what?"

"You're supposed to be ugly and fat and evil!"

Mary looked quite taken back by this statement.

"I'm what?"

"I mean, that's what you looked like in the pictures in my history book from High School!"

"Did it ever occur to you, Sarah," Kyle interjected. "That because history is written by the victors, maybe she had more enemies than friends, and they kept alive the image of Bloody Mary? I mean, maybe that's not who she _really_ was! We have the rare opportunity to re-write history right here."

"Excuse me, Kyle," Mary replied. "But I don't think you're in the right either. I am not a relic to be examined and studied by clerics as if I were a piece of wood from the Holy Cross."

"Well, I think you'll have a harder time convincing Professor Hawkins of that."

Mary did a double-take.

"What did you say?"

"Professor Hawkins at ESU," Kyle said. "I've been tracing the IP address of whoever's been looking at your files, and it goes back to a computer that's currently being used by Professor Hawkins." He turned around to her. "What, do you know him?"

Mary admitted to what had happened several days ago.

"This can't be good," Kyle said.

"That's Sasha's dad!" Sarah stated.

"Yeah, and he's a royal pain in the ass."

"Come off it, already!" Sarah exclaimed. "What have you got against the Hawkins? They're totally nice people."

"Professor Hawkins blocked my entry to ESU," Kyle said. "Both as a student and as an employee. He said that nobody could be as smart as me without cheating. Then he did a background check." At this, Kyle became extremely shifty and uncomfortable.

"Not to mention Sasha the slut," Kyle continued after a brief pause.

"And what exactly did Professor Hawkins find in this little background check?"

Kyle sighed.

"Okay, listen," he said. "I think there are some things I should tell you guys, some things I haven't said before."

"Kyle, I've known you since ever!" Sarah returned. "What could you possibly have to tell me that I don't know already?"

"Have you ever heard of the Hand of Freedom?"

Both of the women shook their heads in ignorance.

"Officially they don't exist," Kyle began. "Because they're a network of Robin Hood-esque hackers who steal funds from corrupt businesses and corporations and give them to various charitable organizations anonymously."

"And you're one of them?" Sarah asked.

"I'm Codename: Friar Tuck." he returned proudly.

"Kyle!" Sarah cried. "That's stealing!"

"Technically, they stole first...and extorted, and shipped millions of immigrants across the borders to work almost for free in sweat-shop conditions. It's only fitting their ill-gotten loot should be given to the people they're impovershing."

"This is huge," Sarah sighed. "I mean, this is like 'go to prison for the rest of your life' huge! How could you keep something like this from me?"

"Because the Hand is a secret organization!" Kyle exclaimed. "And if you were culpable, you could have gotten charged with assisting a criminal."

"So how does this tie in with me?" Mary asked.

"The Mother-ship is my secret account," he said. "I store the acquired funds before sending them out. Since you're poor and in need, I took a small percentage out of each acquisition and gave them to you. But I never took any of it for myself, I swear."

Sarah sighed.

"Are you alright, Sarah?"

"No, I'm not alright!" Sarah returned. "It's not every day you find out your best-friend is a criminal and your room-mate is the most infamous murdering queen in English history."

"Well, to be fair," Kyle interjected. "Elizabeth's 'Golden Age' saw more people killed than..."

"Shut up, Kyle!" Sarah groaned in frustration. "Listen, I just need some time to cool off, okay? You guys have to leave."

"Guys? You mean she's leaving too?" Kyle indicated to Mary.

"But where will I go?" Mary asked.

"I don't know! Go crash at Kyle's, or Joe's. Right now I don't care! I just need some time alone!"

They both left in silence. Mary looked back, and saw that Sarah was trying to fight back tears. She herself was also keeping the flood-gates of her eyes at bay, though that was just as difficult.

Outside the apartment, Kyle noticed that Sarah was starting to break down.

"It'll be okay," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Thank you, Kyle," she sniffed.

"So, are you crashing at my place or Joe's?"

"I would like to visit Joseph." she said.

"As you wish, Your Majesty." he jokingly returned.

Mary grimmaced. Just the thought that she had once been queen, and all that Sarah said about her, was enough to make her feel rather annoyed at Kyle's statement.

"Could we stop some-place first, though?" she asked.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: So, the tension is building up and the symphony has started rightly. Once started, there's no stopping until the <em>prima donna<em> sings!)**

**(I think I've gotten enough "Elizabeth killed x-thousand people more than Mary" reviews and comments to merit Kyle saying something like that in Mary's defense. Hoped you all liked that none-too-subtle nod. Also, the musical Mary and Maddie saw was...well, can you guess? I've left enough innuendo [and out-uendo] to make it kind of obvious. I don't own that either, so I didn't refer to it directly.)**

**(Have several more chapters left, but a surprise is coming up next chapter. Don't you dare to go anywhere!)**


	16. A Surprise

**(AN: Enough with the Elizabeth-hate! I like both of them, end of story. That's not going to change and you're only hurting yourself with all this character-bashing. As far as wikipedia is concerned, I wouldn't trust everything on there, since anybody can edit any page on there, what, then, is credible information anymore?)**

**(And now for the big surprise)**

* * *

><p><strong>A Surprise<strong>

Once again, Mary found herself in the confessional at St. Patrick's. She made a habit of going to confession when she could, and never missed a Mass. Sarah usually gave her money for taxi, though didn't go herself. Joseph actually drove her there several times. Only Roger would make a scene if Will tried to give Mary money for taxi on a Sunday.

"Father," she whispered. "I wish to confide something with you. I hope you don't mind."

"I've found that people often find solace in telling their problems to the priest," he said. "The **LORD** always knows, of course, what is ailing you, and He answers your prayers before you even know what to pray about. But please, go ahead."

Mary swallowed hard. _How can I tell him my situation without actually _telling_ him of my situation?_

"I have…" she began. "Sinned, greatly. In the past. I've confessed many times, and yet it seems that the ghosts of my past have come back to haunt me. My friends, they, I fear it may hurt them."

Silence.

"If they are indeed your friends," the priest answered. "It will not matter. And even if they prove to be false, there is always the **LORD**."

"Yes, father."

"I can't tell you," the priest continued. "How many times I've had people come to me with the same problem, their sins of old. Letting go is difficult business, and it's hardly a one-time ordeal, it's a process of continually choosing to forget the past."

"But how can I let go?"

"Think instead of all the good in your life," he replied. "Know in your heart that it comes from the **LORD**, and give Him thanks always. Do good and charitable deeds always, so that while your heart is going out towards your fellow man, it will not dwell on the evils of days gone by."

Mary closed her eyes, and thought of one good thing.

"Thank you, father."

* * *

><p>In all of the many months they had known each other and had been dating, Mary had not yet visited Joseph's house. After confession, she called him up (her face lighting up the moment she heard his voice) and asked if she could stay at his place. Though hesitant at first, he conceded and gave her the address. This she gave to the cab-driver who took her where she wished to go.<p>

The apartment where Joseph had directed her to was on another side of town. It wasn't exactly the Projects, but the quality of the hotels was definitely lower than that of Sarah's building. She wrapped her jacket a little tighter about herself as she walked up the stairs. At last she found the number, rang the door-bell and knocked.

She found herself at a loss for words, maybe even breath, when he answered.

"Hey," he smiled back. "Uh, come on in."

He stepped out of the way and let her enter the room. It was small, like hotel bed-room small. There was one bed, a very small kitchen, and two chairs seated in between the bed and the kitchen. The bathroom was off to one side as well, once again spartan beyond spartan.

"Sarah kick you out of the apartment?" he asked, though not intending to sound callous or uncaring.

"No," Mary returned. "She says she needs time to herself. I hope she does not stay mad at me forever."

"Why is she mad at you?"

Mary sighed. _Do I tell him?_ she wondered. _Will it make a difference, if I tell him or not?_

"It is a very long story..."

"I have time."

Mary sighed, and sent up a silent prayer that this would smooth over well. He leaned against one of his chairs while she sat down on the bed.

"Do you believe in God, Joseph?"

"Well," he answered. "I wasn't raised a Christian, but I found my way to Christ, just the same as anyone else, I guess."

"Well, do you believe in second chances?" she continued. "As in, say a person does something wrong in their lives, and when they die, they are allowed another chance to live life properly?"

"I suppose so. Mary, where is this going?"

"I've never told you my last name, have I?"

"Well, no. Then again, I haven't either."

Mary sighed. She knew that she was beating around the bush with this situation, and had to just come clean already.

"My last name...is Tudor."

"As in _T-U-T-O-R_?"

"_T-U-_D_-O-R_."

"Cool. Mine's Wright."

Mary looked at him oddly. This was hardly the kind of reaction she had expected. She rose up from where she sat.

"Wait, do you not know what I've done? What they say about me?"

"What you've done?"

"I am Mary Tudor, once the Queen of England," she said. "Or perhaps you would know me better as 'Bloody' Mary?"

Joseph shook his head.

"History was never my thing," he replied. "Besides." He now stood up, and took a step towards her. "All I see is the woman I love."

If Mary had been made of butter, she would have melted upon the spot.

A moment or twenty of silence followed as Mary stared up at Joseph, and he looked back down at her - not in a diminutive way, but in that he was taller than she.

"Would you like to have dinner?" he asked.

"Yes, please." she returned. "I haven't eaten today."

"Would you like to go out?"

Thankfully, Joseph did not take her to the Italian Restaurant where she worked. He had something else in mind, something fancier. With nothing to wear other than what she had on, Mary asked him to take her back to Sarah's apartment. He acquiesced, but she found that nobody was there. Her key still worked, so obviously Sarah hadn't had time to change the locks, or else did not wish to do so. No note or anything was left on the table.

"That's unusual," Mary stated. "Sarah's not one to leave without the courtesy of leaving some kind of notice or instructions."

Regardless, she walked into the bathroom and came back out, dressed in the nice evening dress that she had worn at the party Sarah forced her to attend. It had long since been cleaned and it made her fair skin stand out marvelously.

Minutes later (and after Joseph went back to his apartment and changed again), Joseph found a nice restaurant where they could have their dinner. The evening went well, with mostly small-talk about how things were going between each other's worlds. Once during the date, Mary could have sworn that she heard her cell-phone go off: she let the call go to voice-mail.

"Uh, Mary?" Joseph asked.

"Yes?"

"I'm not sure exactly how to say this," Joseph sighed as he began to speak. "But, well, here it goes. Mary, you know that I love you, right?"

"Yes, and I love you as well."

"And-and I know that this may seem a bit sudden, but I've been thinking a lot about us, about our relationship. And I think that the only right step would be to take us to the next level."

"What precisely do you mean?"

But Joseph seemed to be at a loss for words. Instead, he looked around, then got off his chair and knelt down at Mary's side. Being used to people kneeling before her, Mary wasn't exactly sure how to take this gesture. Perhaps Joseph noted her hesitance, because he felt inside his jacket pocket and brought out a tiny velvet-lined box and placed it in her hands.

"Open it first." was all he said.

Mary nodded, and, to her profound surprise, discovered a tiny silver band with a bedazzling diamond set into the ring.

"With all sincerity," Joseph said. "And all my heart, I ask you to please marry me."

Mary suddenly realized that she couldn't breathe.

* * *

><p>Maybe it was the shock of the moment, or the surprise, or...well, whatever it was. But it was overcoming, and she asked to be allowed a moment outside to think and to breathe the open air. Joseph, being a gentleman, obliged.<p>

Not but a few moments after walking out onto the restaurant's open-air patio, her phone rang again. This time she answered it.

"Hello, this is Mary's phone."

"Mary, it's Kyle," the voice said on the other end.

"Oh, hello Kyle."

"Where've you been? I've been trying to call you all day but your phone..."

"I've been on a date with Joseph. He asked for my hand in marriage."

"Whoa!" Kyle said, semi-sarcastically. "I totally did not see _that_ one coming!"

"Kyle!"

"I'm just kidding. So, are you going to?"

"I don't know!" she returned. "It's much to think about."

"Come on, you two are perfect for each other! It's like Tristan and Isolde or Romeo and Juliet!"

"Who?"

"Oh, that's right. You probably don't know about Shakespeare. Listen, I have some more good news."

"What is it?"

"I've double-encrypted your files, both on the Mother-ship and at ESU," he said. "Anyone tries to access them without the proper pass-codes, they get spammed by a dozen computer viruses. And I've made it completely untraceable. Once again, your secret is safe."

Mary breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now, what are you doing here on the phone? Go tell Joseph that you're going to marry him."

"But I don't know yet!"

"I'm just kidding, but it would be perfect if you _did_ marry him. Catch you later, Your Majesty."

"Kyle!"

But he had already hung up. Mary stowed the phone away, cleared her throat, and prepared to walk back in and face Joseph's proposal.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: That was our big surprise!)<strong>

**(Well, I've got to give our characters a little more time to unravel what will happen. I didn't want it all to come crashing down just yet...)**


	17. Sasha

**(AN: Or do I?)**

**(This will be our first chapter that Mary does not directly appear in. It's _very_ important to the development of the plots of both this story as well as some plot bunnies for _The Chronicles of Will and Roger_. [speaking of which, I need good surnames for them, if I haven't written them already. I think I have one for Will, but I don't recall].)**

* * *

><p><strong>Sasha<strong>

Sarah Leeland was not happy. It wasn't that Kyle was part of some Robin-Hood cyber-punk criminal organization, or even that Mary claimed to be the Queen of England. It was the idea that, if she continued in the way in which she was now set, she would lose her two best friends. Her natural instincts told her to cut her losses: criminals and the criminally-insane were not good to fraternize with, not where she wanted to go in life.

But she knew that Kyle, for all of his computerized lifestyle and internet quirks, was an idealist and a believer in justice, just like the heroes from the comics he read as a child (and now). Using the old school D&D alignment rating, Kyle would be a neutral good. Fought for what was right but wasn't afraid to bend the rules when possible.

But there was more on her plate than just Kyle and Mary.

A knock sounded on the door.

"Go away!" she returned.

The door opened up.

"I said go awa..." Sarah paused in mid-sentence. "Sasha! What are you doing here? It's been almost a year since you've stopped by my apartment."

"I tried to call you," Sasha said, putting on her humblest, nicest face and tone possible.

"My phone has been off." Sarah returned.

"Not like it's any of my business, but...are you alright?" Sasha asked. "You look like you've been crying a little."

"I'll be alright." Sarah dismissed.

Sasha pouted, then patted Sarah on the shoulder.

"Do you know what you need?"

"New locks on my door?" Sarah asked. "Who gave you a key anyway?"

"Did you forget who got you this apartment in the first place?"

"I did."

"But I suggested it to you," Sasha returned. "Anyway, you need a night on the town with the girls!"

"Not right now, Sash," Sarah dismissed. "I've had a pretty tough couple of days."

"Just the thing to take your mind off it!" Sasha smiled. "I've already got the others together. Please?" She made her best cute face, which, the hideous tan, overdone make-up and fake lips added to it, looked rather repulsive and coquettish.

Sarah sighed. "Alright, but don't let me get drunk."

"I promise." Sasha smiled, fingers tightly crossed behind her back. Sarah walked off to get herself into some better clothes.

* * *

><p>Of the five or six girls at the pub, only two or three of them were over the age of twenty-one. The rest had fake IDs or had bribed somebody to let them get in. At the bar, Sasha and her cronies sat, downing hard drinks like water. Well, they definitely did. Sasha sipped her margarita sparingly, watching shots upon shots of tequila finally working their way with poor Sarah.<p>

"I mean," Sarah slurred. "You would not hic...you would not believe how bad I've had it."

"Tell me about it, girl." Sasha replied, not in the least bit concerned. Her main concern were the other cronies. They were all loyal, at least up front. But she couldn't let them get too wild. Several years ago she had made that mistake, and somebody with a cam-corder put the juicy evidence up on Dailymotion (it was too hardcore for YouTube), and Sasha's cronies cashed in on that bargaining chip big-time. She never forgot the incident, and made sure she put them all back into line and never drank in excess...at least, with them around.

"Like, do you remember..." Sarah continued, unaware of Sasha's total apathy. "Do you remember my gay friends Will and Roger?"

Sasha sighed in disgust. "Queers. I don't understand what you see in those two. They have absolutely no sense of fashion."

"Just because they're gay," Sarah returned. "Doesn't mean they're fashionable." She laughed. "I swear, they have as much fashion as a toad."

"You're right about the toad." Sasha added.

"No, listen," Sarah continued. "See, they want to have a kid, and they don't want to deal with the emotional luggage of an adoption. So they ask me, their best, fertile, single female friend, if I could be a surrogate mother for their child."

"Like that god-awful Tina Fey movie?" Sasha asked. "Ew!"

"I know! I mean, I love them to pieces, even Rog. He can be rough around the edges, but he's a really nice guy."

"Nice?" Sasha mocked. "He's not happy unless he's shoving his gayness in everyone's faces!"

"Well, he just needs to express himself. But who-any, I love them to death, but, come on, there's got to be limits to what a friend can do for another friend, right?"

"You said it."

"And if that wasn't bad enough," Sarah rambled on. "I find out my hic! My best friend in the whole wide world, the one I've known since I was knee-high to a termite!"

"Are you talking about that dork who won't get out of his parents' basement?"

"Hey! Kyle has his own room in their house!"

"My dad can't stand him. Some geeky man-code about honor and loyalty or some bull-shit like that. I don't know."

"Hey, hey, hey! I am still talking here!" Sarah waved to the bartender, making funny faces and tipping her empty shot-glass up and down. He refilled it, and down it went.

"And-and-and..." Sarah laughed. "The very next minute, my newest friend, Mary. You've met her before."

"You mean that pale, flat-chested little porker you brought to my party?" Sasha asked. "You should have brought her here. We could have gotten her drunk quickly then had her dancing naked up on the tables. It would have been such a laugh riot!"

"Well, she can screw go herself!" Sarah slurred. "Because her stairs don't reach the top level. Y'know what I mean? I mean, the lights are on, but nobody's home. It's like, hello? Are you home?" Sarah started knocking on the bar counter.

"Come again?" Sasha asked.

"She's bonkers!" Sarah let out. "I mean, I find her on the side of the road, no clothes, no ID, nothing! I'm thinking, 'Maybe this was some kind of mob job, and I should just mind my business', but no! I took her in and gave her a place to stay, then I found out how mad she is! She told me that she's freaking Bloody Mary!" Sarah laughed so hard, she lost control of her upper body and hit the bar head first.

"I'm sorry, did you say you wanted a Bloody Mary?" Sasha asked.

"No," Sarah replied, sliding her head up to look at her friend. "I said she told me that she thinks she's Bloody Mary. No, no, not the drink. The Queen of England, you know? From History Class!" She laughed again, her palm slamming down on the bar. "Isn't that something?"

Sasha was now gazing intently into space. So, one of Sarah's friends was criminally insane. She could use this information, then, if Sarah ever tried anything.

Although, if she knew the truth about it, and paid any real attention to what her father was up to, she would never have been able to keep her mouth shut.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Lovely product placement there! [lol])<strong>

**(And I think that's decent language for a T-rated fic.)**

**(But the importance of what has happened here shall be fore-told in chapters to come, so stay around! And lastly, let me state once again that my fictional characters can have beliefs and ideals that are separate and different from my own, but that does not mean that I'm personally privy to those ideals or beliefs. So yeah, if Sasha's being a total b-word, that's not who I am, that's just her.)**


	18. Happy

**(AN: This couldn't be any more perfect. It's like God ordained that this story should begin when it did so that a certain something would happen in this chapter [lol, that's just me].)**

**Happy**

* * *

><p>Word among the circle of friends quickly got around that Mary and Joseph would be married. It seemed to be bringing them all back together, despite what had recently happened between Kyle, Mary and Sarah. Now Sarah was gushing over wedding details, telling Mary the same refrain:<p>

"Don't worry, I'll make all the arrangements."

However, that proved to be easier said than done. Sarah saved up enough to have their wedding on, of all days, the Leap Day of February. Kyle contributed, though he did not say where he got the money for such. Those who were in the know knew, and those who were not were better left ignorant (after that horrible fiasco in mid-January, it was not safe for too many to know about the Mother-ship or the Hand). Roger Hobbs worked for JFK Airport, and so usually had a decent salary, and with a little bit of luck and convincing from Will and the others, would be willing to contribute a little.

One afternoon in February, Mary, Sarah and Kyle were together, going over wedding plans (anything to get ol' Kyle out of the Bat-cave).

"Um, hey guys," Kyle said at last. "Do you know what's coming up soon?"

They both gave him blank expressions in return.

"It's Mary's birthday on the 18th!"

"It is?" Sarah asked. "You never told me your birthday."

Mary blushed. "A lady is not supposed to talk about her age."

"Especially when she'll be four hundred and ninety-six years old!" Kyle jokingly inserted. Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes, as if to say 'Not this again!'

"Kyle!" Mary returned.

"I'm only kidding," he retorted. "But how old will you be?"

Mary shrugged. It never really occured to her. Last she knew, she had had her forty-second birthday before she "fell asleep". She hardly looked in her forties, and therefore she could not accurately guess how old she might now be.

"Sarah," Kyle said. "How old do you think Mary is?"

"How old do I _think_ she is, or how old do I _know_ she is?"

"Either way."

"Twenty-two, around there, I bet."

"There you have it!" Kyle said. "This Saturday, Mary will be twenty-three years old." He leaned over to Mary. "Give or take a century or four."

Mary just rolled her eyes.

* * *

><p>Finally the day came. Not the 29th, but the 18th. Mary was now one of three ages - four hundred and ninety-six by the historical records, forty-three by her own internal reckoning, and twenty-three by her outer, physical appearance. Sarah picked her up from Joseph's apartment, where she was now staying, and took her out to dinner and, as they were walking towards the restaurant, encountered everyone else - Joseph, Maddie, Kyle, William and Roger.<p>

"What?" Sarah asked. "I didn't plan a surprise birthday party!"

"Yes, she did," Will returned. "She could barely keep it a secret."

Sarah sighed then led everyone inside the restaurant. Mary felt a little touched by all their kindness - Roger and Maddie had taken the day off of work without pay to throw their friend a surprise birthday party. Of course, as with most restaurants, they brought out a small confectionery dish with a candle on it for Mary's birthday and there was much rejoicing.

The party didn't seem like it would stop. Will and Roger had enough energy between them to keep it going all on their own, even if they had to prop up a tired Mary between them all the way into five thirty-eight AM.

"Okay, you party animals," Sarah said. "Let's give the birthday girl her presents."

"What?" Mary asked, a little off-guard. "But I didn't ask for anything."

"Doesn't matter," Maddie said. "We're your friends, you need something."

"Here, open my gift first." Sarah said, holding her wrapped package up. Mary began tearing through it slowly, and as one of the waiters dropped in to make sure that these seven weren't making a total mess of the place, Sarah reminded him that they would have everything cleaned up by the time they left.

Mary opened it up and found a charm bracelet, with tiny blue charms upon the band with each of their names.

"There's 'Something Blue'," Sarah said. "It's for you to remember us by."

"But I'm not leaving, am I?" Mary asked.

"I don't know," Sarah said. "You'll soon be a married woman, and Joseph might not want to live in the city for the rest of his boring little life."

"Hey!" he returned.

"All I'm saying is," Sarah told Mary. "No matter where you go, we'll always be with you. And now you have a little charm bracelet to prove it."

Mary smiled.

"Here's my gift," Kyle said, bringing out a large wrapped package. Mary opened and found, to her surprise, a painting. But Mary did not know what to make of it. It resembled the Dutch painter Antonio Mor's portrait of her, but the face and head were different. It was her, as she was now, and she was smiling.

"You'd be amazed what a little computer savvy and Photoshop can do," Kyle said. "Besides, I don't think Mor captured your smile accurately."

Mary did not know what to say about this, so she just said 'Thank you.'

"I guess you could call this a pre-house-warming gift," Maddie said, presenting Mary with her gift. It was an empty photo-album, but the cover was truly remarkable.

"I made that myself," Maddie said. "The cover and everything."

"It's lovely," Mary replied. "Thank you."

"Your turn," Sarah said, turning to the guys. Before Mary could see what was going on, she made a quick wink in Joseph's direction.

"Roger wanted to give you just one gift from both of us," Will said. "But once he saw what I had gotten you, he just had to out-do it."

"What is it?"

"Here's mine," Roger said, presenting his gift.

"And this one is from me," Will added his to the small pile, while Maddie and Kyle got up to throw the wrapping away.

Since it was on the top, Mary grabbed Will's present first. In it was a copy of the _Nova Vulgate_, the Rome-sanctioned Holy Bible. Opening the first page, she saw, written upon the inside was this inscription:

_To: Mary_

_From: William Denner_

_Always remember that God is love._

"Why, thank you, Will!" she smiled.

"Yeah yeah, now check out mine." Roger said. "It cost at least three times as much as that."

To her surprise, Roger's gift was incredibly smaller. It wasn't even a package, it was an envelope. She pried it open and found two tickets and a brochure inside.

"I pulled a few strings down at JFK," Roger said. "And was able to get you and Joe two tickets to Hawaii for your honeymoon!"

"Thanks, bro." Joseph said, slapping Roger on the shoulder.

"Don't mention it!"

"Now it's time for announcements," Sarah said.

"What announcements?" Will asked. "We already know Mary's getting married."

"The _other_ announcements," Sarah hissed, then quickly typed a text on her cellular phone. "Something I don't want our two _other_ love-birds to be missing out on!"

Almost two minutes later, Maddie and Kyle re-emerged, her hair messy and his glasses askew. They took their seats and pretended to be deaf when anyone asked them what they had been up to.

"Took you long enough!" Sarah hissed through clenched teeth - not seriously.

"Sorry," Kyle said. "Somebody needed me to go into the Chamber of Secr..." Maddie playfully whacked him on the shoulder. "Oh, we were just...just...talking."

"We're not stupid, you know." Roger stated.

"Is that the big announcement?" Will asked. "You two are a couple?"

"Actually," Joseph interjected. "Kyle told me about it first."

"And me." Mary, who was snuggled in Joseph's arm, added.

"But that's not the announcement," Sarah stated. "Now sit down!"

One by one they sat down.

"Sarah, are you alright?" Mary asked, noting a glossy look of sorrow in Sarah's eyes.

"I have a big announcement to tell you all," Sarah sniffled. "And it's like nobody gives a damn! I mean, I'm the one who has to be making this big sacrifice, I'd think you'd all just..."

At this, Will and Roger perked their ears up.

"Alright, everyone shut up," Roger stated. "And let the lady talk!" He turned to Sarah, who mouthed a quiet 'Thank you' in his direction.

"We're sorry, Sarah." Mary said. "Please, continue."

Sarah gulped.

"Will and Roger," she indicated to the couple with her hand. "Are going to have a baby."

Saying that six pairs of eyebrows went up would be quite an understatement.

"Are you serious?" Will asked. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Oh my God!" Roger whispered.

"Huh?" both Maddie and Kyle asked.

"But you're both men!" Mary said after a long silence.

"Well hello there, Legolas!" Kyle stated.

"Kyle!"

"I just couldn't resi..." Roger cut him off.

"Will and Roger," Sarah said. "Are going to have a baby." She then looked down at herself.

"And I'm carrying it."

* * *

><p>After dinner, they all dispersed back to their respective homes - well, Kyle went with Maddie to her house rather than back to the 'Bat-Cave'. Sarah told Joseph to take her and Mary to her apartment first before they left, because there was one last thing that had to happen.<p>

So there they were, back in Sarah's apartment.

"I don't understand," Mary said. "Why are we here?"

"You still haven't gotten your last present," Sarah said.

"What, are you planning on naming Will and Roger's child after me, if it is a girl?"

"Listen to you, speaking the ancient language of sarcasm! Good for you!"

"What is it?"

"Okay, Joe. Remember, it's bad luck and all, so stay in the hallway."

"As you wish." he said, closing the door behind him.

"Wait, why can't Joe be in here?"

"Because I have to show you something," Sarah said. "It's Joseph's present to you."

"What is it?"

"I know, I know, you're usually supposed to rent this kind of thing," Sarah said, as she walked behind Mary. "But he insisted that he buy it. He had the money and said you'd look beautiful in it. So close your eyes."

"Close my eyes?"

"Just keep 'em closed!" Sarah placed her hands over Mary's eyes. "Are they closed?"

"I believe so."

"Good," Sarah spoke into Mary's ear. "Just stay there and no peeking." Her footsteps faded away, then came back, with something sweeping the floor behind her. "Okay, open up."

Mary opened her eyes, and beheld the most beautiful white gown she had ever seen. Anything of the seamstresses and spinsters of her time paled in comparison to this piece of work.

"Your bridal gown," Sarah said. "It even has this adorable little trailing hood thing." She held up the head-piece and placed it on Mary's head. Just as she was this close, she saw that Mary was crying.

"Are you okay?"

Mary nodded.

"Then why are you crying?"

"It has never been my place to be happy," Mary admitted. "Until now!"

She threw her arms around Sarah's shoulders, hugging and sobbing into her shoulder. Sarah simply patted her on the head.

"There, there," she said. "Everyone deserves a chance to be happy."

"Not I," Mary finally replied, wiping the tears out of her eyes. "For I was born a maid and not a boy."

Just looking at Mary when she was not crying was perhaps far worse than when she actually _was_ crying.

"Maybe back home," Sarah replied. "But this is America, and it's 2012! You get to make your own happy ending, whether you're a boy or girl."

"Do you really believe that?"

"With all my heart." Sarah smiled.

Mary threw her arms back around Sarah, but there were no more tears now.

"I'm so grateful to be here," she said. "I truly have the best friends in the whole world."

Deep down inside, Sarah felt a pang of guilt. But she suppressed it: now was not the time for tears or guilty feelings. Soon it would be a joyous occasion, and no time for tears.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN:Yes, it was Mary's birthday!)<br>**

**(Had planned on having the wedding be in this chapter, but I guess it can wait!)**

**(Yeah, I guess I threw you a curve-ball with that one, eh? It's a plot bunny from _The Chronicles of Will and Roger_ [still unpublished] that got away and planted a seed in this chapter. But how will it come to fruition? That is not for _this story_ to tell. [lol])**


	19. Together

**(AN: Okay, I think I've got a bit of inspiration for this chapter. Once again, I'm not very good at the whole romantic side of a story, so bare with me.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Together<strong>

_February 29th, 2012_

About five o'clock that morning, Sarah Leeland's alarm clock woke her up. She dragged her feet to the bathroom of her apartment, took a quick shower, fixed up her hair, then got herself into her day clothes. She checked the calendar, making sure that this was the day.

Sure enough, today would be the day.

She flipped open her cell-phone and gave Maddie Lebowitz a ring. She told her to meet her at the church - St. Patrick's Cathedral - shortly. The service would be early that day, and it was almost six o'clock.

Out went the phone and she called Will Denner and Roger Hobbs. She was on her way out and had to have one of them pick up Joseph once they were done. Will said he would arrange for a cab, since he had a little bit of money left over and Roger would be in charge of the catering for the service.

Sarah rolled her eyes. A groom driven to his own wedding in a taxi, how classy. But they didn't have much time, her scheme had to work perfectly.

A taxi-ride later and she, Maddie and Will were standing outside Joseph Wright's apartment. She had let Joseph in on their plans, so he gave her an extra key. It was risky, but then again, this whole plan was also rather silly. It didn't seem like something Sarah would do. Yet she insisted.

Quietly, she and Maddie tip-toed through the apartment and found Joseph sleeping on the floor. In the only bed was Mary (did she say her last name was Tutor or Tudor?), sound asleep. In hushed voices, they roused her from sleep.

"What is it?" she drearily asked.

"Today's the day," Sarah whispered.

Mary's face lit up.

"Am I dreaming?"

"No," Sarah shook her head. "It's for real! You're getting married today!"

They left, surrendering the key to Will and reminding him to go through with the plan.

* * *

><p>Five minutes to nine o'clock.<p>

There were not many guests at St. Patrick's Cathedral that day for the service. The Stevens family were here, and Maddie brought her kid sister Kelly. Will served as Best Man, wearing a rented tuxedo - the nicest he had ever dressed in a long time (he said so himself!) - and was standing at the altar, a few steps behind Joseph.

The Maid of Honor and the Bride were still busy.

In a room preserved especially for weddings, Sarah, in her pink dress, was buzzing like a little golden-haired bee around Mary. Everything had to be perfect.

"Must we go through this?" Mary asked.

"Please, it's your wedding day," Sarah replied. "You'll thank me later."

"Do I look presentable?" she inquired again.

"You look perfect," Sarah beamed. She gave her a hug, then excused herself, while she had to make sure everything was ready for the service.

"I'll come back in a few," she added. "And knock on this door when it's go-time, okay?"

Mary nodded. She was glad, for the moment, that Sarah was away. She needed a moment of time to herself. It all seemed like a dream, like something too good and too perfect to be true was happening. Deep inside, she secretly feared that any minute now she would wake up back in Whitehall, the rest of this having just been a dream, a pleasant fantasy...

_No,_ she told herself. _I must not think this way._

She sighed, gripping in her hand the rosary the priest gave her. Quietly, she turned to a nearby crucifix and sent up a quiet prayer to the Virgin.

"Mother," she whispered, for some unknown reason. "Father. I wish you were both here today."

* * *

><p>The stroke of Nine. The bells rang, an organ began to play, and a pink-clad Sarah Leeland scurried to the doors that led into the chapel, gripped them tightly in her hands, then threw them open. Quietly, and not using the main lane, she scurried back to the altar.<p>

Coming down the main lane of the cathedral was Mary, a smile on her face. Her dress was white, no stain or blemish upon it or her face. It was perfect.

At the altar, behind the place where the bride would stand, Sarah was weeping for joy.

The ceremony went off smoothly and without any pauses or errors. Joseph and Mary stood hand in hand, eyes glued to each other, and they both said "I do" when they were supposed to.

"Then by the power vested in me," the priest said, with a smile on his face. "I pronounce you husband and wife." He turned to Joseph. "You may now kiss the bride."

Cheers and applause rose from the guests as Joseph and Mary were now wed.

Unfortunately, there would be no post-wedding party, because Joseph and Mary had to catch their flight. So they bade farewell to everyone there, promised to take plenty of pictures, and rushed out to meet Roger, who waited outside the church with his car, ready to take the newly-wed couple to the airport.

Sarah, meanwhile, stood outside the church, watching Mary go off into married life. The wedding had gone over perfectly - true, she had to make Roger promise not to freak out if Mary and Joseph started kissing each other on the way to the airport, but that was insignificant. Compared to how perfectly it went down, it was _very_ insignificant.

She smiled, and waved good-bye.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Yeah, like I said, not that good at writing these kinds of things. Sorry if it was short)<br>**

**(Once again, we're still not over yet. I have a few more chapters left to write. [And if you were waiting for _The Chronicles of Will and Roger_, you may have to wait a little while longer. _FictionPress_ is acting up, I can't get the Document Manager to go open up like on here, it's still an inch thick with no tools and all in HTML code. So unless I can figure out how to change it back, that will still be a while in the works].)**


	20. Next Thanksgiving

**(AN: A couple of wicked spiders, and now I'm pulling an all-nighter.)**

**(Originally intended on bringing this out _after_ Will and Roger's story had been published, but that's not gonna happen - not with _FictionPress_ acting up as it is. So yeah, the cat's coming out of the bag on this one, unless a miracle happens.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Next Thanksgiving<strong>

_November 22nd, 2012_

The car was on its way through the lovely suburbs of Queens. The three Manhattan dwellers were on their way for their second Thanksgiving party together.

"Remember what we talked about, Rog," Sarah reminded the driver.

"I know, I know," he replied. "I promise, I won't freak out."

"I'd rather not have a repeat of last year's Thanksgiving."

"Relax, Sarah." Will, who was in the 'shot-gun' seat adjacent to Roger, stated. "It's been a long year, things are changing. I doubt she'll even recognize us anymore."

Sarah smiled knowingly, then turned to her left and kissed the baby in the car-seat beside her. Little Noel Hobbs-Denner simply looked up at her surrogate mother with those same baby blue eyes that had looked upon Mary for about five months.

"Who all's gonna be there, again?" Roger asked.

"I know Kyle and Maddie will be," Will answered. "They've been inseparable since they got back."

"How much have you two learned from them?" Sarah asked.

"Well, what do you know?"

"I know that Mary said there was a surprise of some kind," Sarah said. "But she didn't say what kind of surprise. Then again, I think we'll all have a few surprises of our own, huh?" She leaned in and kissed Noel on her little head, which was just starting to sprout golden hair as soft as dove-feathers.

* * *

><p>The car pulled up to the address, a lovely two-storey house in the middle of the Queens suburbs. Roger turned off the engine, then got out and opened the back door for Sarah and Noel. Will followed them up the steps toward the front door, then pressed the door-bell button. The door opened and there stood, still his usual, tall self, Joseph Wright.<p>

"Hey, guys," he greeted. "Welcome. Come on in!" He stepped back, giving them space to walk through. "Mary, they're here!"

To their surprise, Mary walked in from the living room. She was still as petite as they remembered her, yet there was something obviously different about her. Sarah wrapped her arms around Mary's shoulders, careful not to squeeze her stomach.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"It all depends, really," Mary replied. Then her face just lit up with excitement. "Oh! Who is this?"

"Mary, Joe," Will said, bringing up the rear. "This is Noel."

"She's gotten so big since we last saw her!" Joe said.

"May I hold her, please?" Mary asked Sarah.

"Are you sure you can manage?" Sarah replied. "You know, your condition and everything."

"Oh, bother! I'll be alright." Sarah held out her hands and let Mary take Noel into her arms.

"How long has it been since we got those photos, dear?" Mary asked, turning back to Joe.

"Two months," he said. Just then, he remembered: "Oh, sorry. Where are my manners? Please, have a seat."

Will, Sarah, Roger, Mary and Noel made their way into the living room. Will took baby Noel into his arms while Sarah sat down next to Mary on the main sofa and Will returned to Roger on the opposing one.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Mary said.

"Yep," Sarah nodded. "I'm glad you got those photos, though."

They had been sharing photos, on and off-line, of Sarah's progress with her surrogacy. Several of those were now in the photo-album that Maddie had given them. That, however, was not the surprise that Sarah had in mind.

"So, how are things going up here, out of the city?" Sarah asked. "I hear you've been in touch with Kyle and Maddie for a while."

"Yes," Mary nodded. "They're still together, though that's been troublesome."

"Oh?" Roger asked. "What's wrong?"

"Maddie's been having some trouble," Mary said. "They've tried, but they haven't been able to have children."

"Oh, that's awful." Will empathized.

"Yes, it is," Mary sighed. "I, I know not, I have this feeling that they're a little jealous, though."

"Of what?" Sarah asked. "Of your ability to reproduce?" Mary nodded. "That's silly. They could just adopt or something."

"Have they said anything?" Roger queried. "Do they act like they're jealous?"

"Oh, no," Mary shook her head. "They've all been very kind and courteous, but I cannot help but feel that they wish things were different."

Silence filled the room, broken by a quiet "Oh," from Mary, as she shifted her position on the sofa.

"Are you alright?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," Mary nodded. "This baby keeps kicking me in the back."

"Ouch," Roger stated.

At this point, Joe walked into the room, with a plate of food for the guests which he placed on the coffee table before taking his seat right next to Mary. She wrapped her right arm around his shoulder and he returned the gesture.

"Sarah, are you well?" Mary asked. She noticed that Sarah was wiping something out of her eyes.

"No, I'm-I'm fine," she returned, her voice breaking. "I..." She looked over at Will and Roger and mouthed something towards them.

"We've got a little bit of a surprise for you," Roger said.

"We're already having our Thanksgiving party here," Joe said.

Mary nodded. "Kyle and Maddie should be here around 3 or 4."

"No, it's not that." Roger replied. "See, Will and I have thought it over and...well..."

"We're moving to California," he said.

This took them all at surprise.

"Wow, really?" Joe asked.

"That's the other side of the country, isn't it?" Mary asked.

Will nodded.

"But why?"

"I got a job at LAX," Roger said. "It pays more, plus, Will and I will finally be able to get married."

A year ago, Mary would have exploded into a tirade of innocent outrage. Now, she just looked a little surprised and kept her peace.

"When are you moving out?" Joseph asked.

"In three days," Will said.

"What about Noel?" Mary asked.

"She's gonna stay with Sarah," Roger said. "Until we've got a place of our own, then she'll come out with us."

Just then, Mary understood why Sarah was so weepy. As if struck by lightning, she also felt extremely close to Sarah. She was now, it seemed, having to endure exactly what her own mother had endured, being taken away from her own daughter. She put her arm around Sarah's shoulder, and Sarah buried her face in Mary's neck. If she was sobbing, it was very quietly.

"It's okay, Sarah," Mary whispered. "It's okay." Suddenly, as if out of the blue and beyond her own control, this came out: "God will be with her, and you."

* * *

><p>Later that day, Kyle and Maddie arrived and the group was back together again. They had a proper Thanksgiving feast, with a turkey and everything, and shared stories of what had been going on in their lives. Kyle was once again applying for a place at ESU, and Maddie was now a secretary for some big company in Manhattan. True enough, though they were as kind and as sociable as ever, whenever their eyes drifted to Mary's swollen stomach or baby Noel in Sarah's arms, a look of longing and quiet pain lingered in their eyes.<p>

After everyone had eaten, Will brought out his guitar and played for them. At the insistence of Sarah and Roger, Mary sang along with him. To their last day, they never listened to "Ave Maria" the same way. Mary's voice was subtle but beautiful, and Will's fingers danced upon the strings with the precision of a ballerina.

All too soon, however, it was over and they were hugging good-bye. Will and Roger said their farewells, since it would be the last time they would see any of them. They promised to send back as many pictures as possible. Kyle and Maddie gave their good-byes, then made their way back to their car. At the very last, holding up the line, with a rather grumpy Roger waiting in the car, was Sarah with Noel in her arms.

"Well, it was a great Thanksgiving," she said, giving Mary one last hug. "Ooh! What are you going to name it?"

"The baby?" Joe asked. "Well, we haven't decided yet."

"Don't you know if it's a boy or a girl?" Sarah asked.

"We've been to the doctors several times," Joe said. "Mostly for check-ups. So far, everything's fine."

"They've asked me if I wanted to know," Mary said. "But I'd rather it be a surprise. If it's a boy, we could name him Henry-Joseph."

"What if it's a girl?" Sarah asked.

"Well, my mother's name is Blanche," Joe said with a smirk. "Personally, that sounds like an old woman's name."

"Well, she _will_ be an old woman eventually," Sarah jokingly said. "What about..."

"Sarah," Mary said.

"I was gonna say 'your mother's name, Mary.'" a surprised Sarah said.

"But I want it to be your name," Mary said. "You've been a great friend to me, and I'll never forget it." They hugged once again. When they parted, Sarah had her eyes on the ground.

"I've been going back to church lately," she said. "Change some of the things in my life."

Mary smiled inside. "Be sure to visit as often as possible."

"I will," she said. "Be safe, both of you. Good luck with the baby."

A honk came from the car.

"Excuse me," Roger poked his head out of the window. "Some of us have to wake up early for packing."

"You kidding?" Will returned. "You sleep in almost every day you're not working."

Sarah smiled, hugged Mary and Sarah once more, then walked back out to the car. She stopped, turned back, placed Noel's little hand in her own, then waved it at Mary and Joseph.

They then walked back into the house, and began the work of cleaning up what was left over from the Thanksgiving party.

"That was a great dinner, huh?" Joseph said. "You know, maybe next year, we could take a trip to California, have Thanksgiving over there, hun."

To his surprise, there was no reply from the living room.

"Honey?" he placed the plate into the sink and walked back out to the living room. "Oh, dear **LORD****!**"

Mary was on the ground, leaning against the sofa, breathing heavily with both hands clutching her sides. Joseph ran to her side, almost tripping on the rug, and helped her up to her feet then on to the sofa.

"Just a sec, love," he said. "I'll get my keys." He turned to go and almost tripped again. Lookng down, he saw that it was not the rug, but Mary's cell-phone. It was lying open on the floor. _She must have dropped this when she went into labor_, he thought. He picked it up, seeing the four words on the screen: _We've got a problem_. With no time to ponder their meaning, he closed it, stowed it in his pocket, then went back for the keys.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Thank you for waiting)<strong>

**(How's this going so far? I really wished I could have spent more time on Will and Roger, telling how they've changed and such. But that's for my other story - which I still can't give you a publish-date for it :(. As for everything else, I'm pleased with how that's turned out. How about you?)**


	21. A Bad Miracle

**(AN: I'm glad that you've managed to hang in there while I've struggled with, well, you know, the usual computer issues. But I decided to plow through and finish this story, so here we are. And when I first started, I never thought that I'd have come to like and empathize Mary Tudor as much as I do. I'm even gonna write a song about her [but that's a whole different issue all together, lol].)**

**(As far as what Mary might name the baby, that's important because, all-though she might hate what her father did, I would imagine that she still loves him. It's importance will be revealed later on, so don't worry. And Sindarin belongs to Tolkien, not to me.)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>A Bad Miracle<strong>

Minutes later, a certain car was on its way back into the city. Will and Roger were happily chatting away, discussing their plans for the move. Sarah held Noel in her arms, dreading the inevitable day when she would be parted from her for who knows how long. Suddenly her cell-phone rang. It was Joseph, he was now at the hospital.

It was time.

Hours upon hours must have gone by, the time now being somewhere between 3 and 4 o'clock in the morning. In the waiting room, Will, Roger, Sarah and Noel waited for any sign of...well, anything. As per hospital procedure, the doctors couldn't mention anything about the patients. The room they were in was off-limits, with a bunch of screaming and shouting coming from inside.

Thank God I opted for the sedatives, Sarah thought as the three of them returned once more to the waiting room.

So once again, they were back in the waiting room. Sarah's phone went off again, this time from Kyle.

"Hey, I'm at the hospital. What's up?" Sarah asked.

"Wait, hospital? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it's Mary. She's gone into labor."

"Well, that's the least of our problems," he replied. "I think the secret's got out."

"Wait, what secret?"

"You know, the **_BIG_** one! I'm monitoring the Mother-ship and there was an unauthorized access made at least a day ago. I traced it back to you-know-who from ESU."

"Come off it, Kyle! Professor Hawkins is not out to get you!"

"I've already made preparations for that," Kyle said. "Maddie and I are moving to Taiwan. We'll come back once this has blown over. What you need to make sure is that nobody, and I mean nobody, finds out that Mary's not from around here."

"Why?" she asked, still not entirely convinced.

"Why? She's a historical figure, the scholastic world will be clawing at her door, trying to get interviews, autographs, sit-downs, anything! You remember the movie Splash? What happened to the mermaid when the government found out what she was? Is that what you want Mary to become, a test subject locked away in some laboratory?"

Sarah never really thought about this. She had always assumed that Kyle was joking or playing along, for some reason she could never understand, with Mary's delusions about her past. It seemed like a lot to throw on her, especially that they'd be moving out to Taiwan, Will and Roger would be relocating to California and she'd be separated from her "daughter" (surrogacy be damned, Noel still came from her body, that made her in some way 'her' child).

"Have they decided on any names?"

"What?"

"For the baby!"

"Uh, I think they're gonna call it Henry-Joseph, or something, if it's a boy."

"Why? Mary has more reason than anyone to hate her father!"

"I don't know what's going on in her head half the time!"

"Listen, I gotta go. I don't have time to say a proper good-bye. Thank you for...I don't know, everything."

"We'll miss you, kiddo." she smiled. "Bye."

"_Namarie_, wing-man."

"Wing-girl, Kyle." she laughed, choking back tears. The line was ended.

Minutes later, the door was opened and the nurse ushered them into the room.

Inside the delivery room stood a very nervous Joseph. He looked as though he hadn't slept in ages, with dark circles the size of quarters under his eyes. Lying on the bed was Mary, her face pale and glistening with sweat. The doctors were busy with something regarding what had just happened.

In Mary's arms, all the blood and fluids cleaned up, was a tiny baby girl with eyes sealed tightly shut.

"Aww," Sarah gushed. "She's so beautiful." She looked down and saw tears in Mary's eyes. "What's wrong, Mary? This is a happy occasion!"

"I know!" she returned. "The happiest moment of my life!"

"Then why are you crying?"

"I never thought this would happen," Mary admitted. "That I would be mother to a child of my own!"

Just then, after a rather heated discussion with one of the orderlies about whether it was crowded in here or not, Will and Roger poked their faces in to see the newborn baby.

"He has Mary's nose," Roger said.

"'She'," Sarah replied.

"They all look the same at that age," he retorted, which earned him a scathing look from Sarah.

"Look, Noel!" Will said, kneeling down and presenting Noel to the baby. "Say hi to the newborn baby!" Noel reached out her arm curiously and gently petted the newborn with a tiny curled-up hand. Joseph knelt down at Mary's side and kissed his daughter on her little forehead.

"So, what's the baby's name gonna be again?" Roger inquired.

"Katherine," Mary said with a smile. "Katherine Sarah Wright."

"After her mother." Joseph said, indicating to Mary.

"And after you." Mary turned to Sarah, who was trying hard to keep herself from sobbing with joy.

* * *

><p>Mere minutes later, Joseph, Sarah, Will, Roger and a wheelchair-bound Mary stood outside the nursery, where baby Katherine was under observation. Unfortunately, the doctors had discovered something wrong with her blood, and decided to keep her there for further testing. Though they told the young couple that everything was fine and that they could go on home, neither Joseph nor Mary were going home until they brought baby Katherine back with them.<p>

Sarah and Mary were entwined in each other, the one sobbing into the other's shoulders. Mary still knew so little about this century, and about genetics, or how her maternal ancestors had befouled their DNA by intermarriage upon intermarriage and had passed it on to her.

"I'm really sorry about this," Roger said. "Really." He wanted to say more, but then again, he wasn't very good at being sentimental.

"She's gonna pull through, I know she it," Will said with conviction. "She's got her father's strength and her mother's will."

"How can you tell what she's got?" Roger asked. "She's a few hours old, for Pete's sake!"

"I can tell," Will smiled. "I saw a glimmer of it in her eyes."

"She hasn't even opened her eyes!"

"She did, for a brief moment," he said. "I saw it, just then."

Roger sighed at his lover's overt poetic sentimentality. "Come on, let's get something to eat." He turned to Joe. "You want anything from the cafeteria?"

Joseph shook his head.

"How about you?" he asked Sarah.

She made an uneasy look on her face, but Mary simply nodded, whispering a quiet 'Go' to her. Sarah, looking very guilty, pulled out of her embrace, hugged Mary again, then got up and left with Will and Roger: Noel was in Will's arms.

"I have to use the ladies room." Sarah said, as they were on their way.

"Just make sure you wash your hands." Roger said, not picking anything up from what she said and going off to the cafeteria. Will, however, pulled himself and Noel to a stop and joined her.

"Hey, you okay?"

"I just wish I could do more for her, though," Sarah admitted.

"You've done more than enough," he returned. "If you have to go, then go! I don't think they'll hold it against you if you have to answer Mother Nature's call."

She nodded, then waved and smiled at Noel and they walked off and she entered the women's restroom.

* * *

><p>Inside, she found an unoccupied stall, closed the door and did her business. Nobody else, however, was in the restroom for several moments after she had entered. Which made the entrance of the next person even louder than it was; the door slammed open, and the loud yet unsteady clack of high-heeled shoes echoed on the tiled floor. Someone swore loudly, lost balance and then grabbed onto the side of one of the stalls very roughly.<p>

Pulling her pants back on and flushing the toilet, Sarah walked out to see what was the trouble. It was her inquisitive nature that was kicking in, the same one that had caused her to rescue a young woman from a dark, rainy drain-off gutter a little over a year ago.

Staggering there, in the women's restroom of the hospital, was Sasha Hawkins. She looked positively smashed, swaying and belching unlady-like, profanity spewing after each burp.

"Sarah!" she belched. "You little tramp. Haven't seen you around since..." She waved her arms about, trying to think of something, but her memory failed her, just as her balance did. Sarah came and helped her up.

"Easy, now," Sarah said, helping Sasha regain her balance. "What happened to you?"

"That b*tch Lilian must have drugged me," she slurred. "It's okay, I've got that 'independent film' she made, if you know what I mean." She made a circle with her hand and then made a rude gesture over her mouth, then laughed.

Sarah felt very nasty, just watching this display.

"By the way," Sasha said at last. "Where is that fat, pasty little do-gooder you brought to my party all those months ago?"

"Who?"

"The one I tracked down here to find, oh, what is that little piglet's name?" She shook her head. "Oh, it doesn't matter. The point is, I got the scoop of the century on her!" She laughed, snorted, belched then said something very profane that made Sarah cringe.

"It's all, X-Files, Twilight Zone crazy kind of BS, eh?" she slurred. "I don't know. My dad got obsessed with her back at ESU. Said he couldn't understand..." Belch, and another foul oath. "...why some naive little child, who acted like she knew nothing, be smarter than everyone else in his class!"

She swayed around, swatting off Sarah's attempts to help her.

"So he does a little digging," she soldiered on. "And turns out that she's been getting help from some cyber-punk hacker-cell, to cover up that she's a five hundred year old British queen or some crock like that!" She snorted. "My dad thinks it'll change the face of the history of the English Renaissance or something, while getting back at some point-dexter punk he's had it out against. Me? I want that fat little pimple to worship me." She laughed. "Maybe she'll be Lilian's replacement. It's all thanks to you, you know."

Sarah, who had been listening intently to what Sasha had been mouthing off about, suddenly felt her heart fall into the pit of her stomach. If it went any lower, it felt like it would surely fall out of her nether-regions.

"See, that time when we were together, one of the girls taped the whole thing. So I got to hear what you said about that pigl...Mary! That's her name! Stupid church-girl name. You told me what I wanted to hear, and then I found my dad's briefcase in the car when I asked to borrow it for the night..." She held up her purse, presenting a few papers. "...and, lo and behold..." She tripped. "It had everything there is to know about your little freak!"

Minutes passed by. Will and Roger returned from the cafeteria to Mary and Joseph's quiet vigil. Still no word yet on baby Katherine's condition. Sarah had not yet appeared, but Roger didn't take much stock to this.

"Women," he sighed. "They always take forever in the..."

There was a loud scream, followed by an angry shout. Several of the nurses and orderlies made their way past them toward the sound, and before anyone could make a move, an angry drunk woman staggered out of the women's bathroom and out towards the lobby. After her came Sarah, scratch-marks across her face and her hair uneven and messy.

"Stop her!" Sarah cried out, heedless of the hospital's "all quiet" policy. "Don't let her get away!"

"Hey, what's going on?" Roger asked, as the orderlies were attempting to restrain Sarah.

"It's Sasha!" Sarah bolted out in seemingly one breath. "She's got something that's gonna hurt Mary. You have to stop her!"

Without another thought, Joseph followed Roger as they ran off down the hospital hallway after Sasha. Will, with Noel in his arms, looked at Mary, who was trying, with as much strength as she had, to push herself out of her wheel-chair.

"Wait, wait, wait!" he said, coming to her side. "You're in no condition to be..."

"I have to go," she said. "This is what Kyle meant."

"What did who mean? Please, just take a moment!"

"I don't have a moment!" she shouted, sounding almost as aggressive as wee Elizabeth. It was surprising, considering how she was never 'lauded' for her father's aggressiveness. Now she was up on her feet, walking as quickly as she could on unsteady feet. Will brought up the rear.

Outside, all hell was quite literally breaking loose. A yellow-brown Sedan was crashing haphazardly into everything and anything near it, casualty of a drunk driver behind the wheel. Sasha was shouting angrily, cursing up a storm every time she hit something, while Joseph and Roger circled around the vehicle, trying in vain to jump in and pull her out before someone got hurt.

Mary stepped outside, felt the cold November wind against her forehead, and became light-headed for a tiny moment. She didn't see the lights coming toward her until it was too late.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: What just happened?)<strong>

**(Nothing against Europeans, but the nobility of Europe intermarried so much [especially the ones on Mary's mother's side], that their DNA got messed up badly [it happened with the Czar's son from the story of Rasputin].)**

**(As for what Sasha's problem is, she's...well, she's pretty much been left to her own wiles, and has a very controlling personality. She controls her cronies through blackmail or plain old fashion coercion, just because nobody's told her "No!" and she thinks, because she's rich and pretty, she can have whatever she wants. It's her way of "making her own meaning in life", which is pretty much to get whatever she wants. She is, after all, human.)**


	22. Redemption

**(AN: No explanations, no excuses. Just enjoy)**

* * *

><p><strong>Redemption<strong>

When Mary opened her eyes at last, she found herself in the last place she expected to find herself: back in Whitehall, as she knew it from her youth. But there was something subtly different about it: for one, the windows were flooding in so much light that any dark, grim aspects of this hall were gone. Looking down, she saw that she was still dressed in that hideous pale-white hospital gown that opened up at the back-side. Fortunately, and yet strangely enough, nobody was here.

Out of curiosity, she walked toward the nearest window. She peered outside the glass, yet nothing more than bright light could she discern in every direction. It was so intense, she could not stare long into the light. She averted her gaze back into the darkness of the room, and suddenly gasped.

Standing before her, dressed just as she had envisioned her in her mind from her youth, was a Spaniard woman with pale skin and dark red hair.

"Mother?" Mary sobbed. She forgot to breathe, or maybe she remembered just now that she had not been breathing.

"_Mi querida_," Katherine smiled. "How I have missed you!"

Mary reached out her hands to take her mother in her arms, but saw that they passed straight through her as if she were nothing but smoke and vapors.

"What is this?" Mary asked in disbelief. "Where am I?" She shuddered at the next thought that came into her mind.

"Am I dead?"

"That's your choice, my daughter," Katherine said.

"What do you mean?"

"You were very seriously hurt," the Queen continued. "You can choose to surrender now, or you can choose to go back to your life."

"Which should I choose?"

"My time has come and gone, Mary," Katherine said. "The choice must be yours alone." A small, intangible hand rose up for a moment.

"I've missed you so much, mother," Mary sobbed. "I wish we could get back the years that were stolen from us."

"So was my wish, when I lived," Katherine nodded.

Mary was about to speak, but suddenly found herself silenced, though no voice had spoken.

"I'm so proud of you, my dear. I feared that you would not forgive your father for what he did, but I see that you have in your heart. You've grown so much since I last saw you."

Mary didn't say anything. She simply longed to remain here, gazing at the likeness of her mother for all time. At last, she saw something that pained her greatly: the face of her mother fell in a manner of accepting the inevitable.

"You have to leave, my daughter," she said. "You belong in the world of the living."

"No, please," Mary begged. "Don't make me go back. I'm-I'm far beyond my own time, I've missed you for so long. I-I don't care what happens to my soul this time, I want to be with my mother again."

"My grand-daughter needs her mother," Katherine said. "You cannot continue holding onto the past."

"But..." Mary sighed. "But all the pain, all the sorrow, the regret..."

"Cannot be undone," Katherine admitted. "But it can be forgotten."

"I don't want to forget you!"

"I will always be with you," Katherine said softly. Mary's own words resounded in her mind: I am my mother's daughter, am I not? "Yes," Katherine nodded. "You know in your heart what you must do."

In the span of a second, Mary's mind took in everything she had been told. Katherine, her own daughter, needed her. She was just a baby, barely even born: she needed her mother. Yet every fiber of Mary's being wanted to remain here with her own mother. But would it be right, to choose for herself to stay with her mother, and deprive her own daughter of her mother? It would be following in the foot-steps of her father, but she also knew that she could not lay blame on him this time. It would be her decision, and she would be the one guilty of taking herself away from her child when she could have...

At last, the realization came clear. It was never about healing her own hurts, or availing her own problems: it was about doing that to others. For, when she thought of baby Katherine, and how she needed her mother, any faults of her own, any weaknesses of her own, seemed to vanish like dust in the wind. It was about giving of herself, not taking for herself. In that moment she knew what she had to do.

"Good-bye, mother." she sobbed.

"No, _mi preciosia_," Katherine shook her head, a smile on her face. "Only for the moment."

This gave Mary a morbid sense of satisfaction. She was already in her twenties, and, second chance or no, she would eventually grow old and die, and then she would see her mother again, and there would be no more good-byes.

She reached out her hand, though she knew that she could never touch the spectral image of her mother. As if in a vain attempt to reach beyond the undiscovered country and make some impact on the world of the living once more, the shade of Katherine reached out her hand. Their fingers passed through each other at the tip, and Mary remembered no more.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Someone suggested that I do this, have Mary meet someone from her past to see how she's changed. That's how I worked it in. Yes, I know that I stuck with Katherine's real-life appearance as opposed to her <em>Tudors<em> depiction. I don't know why, I really loved Maria Doyle Kennedy. Historical accuracy, I guess. You can imagine Katherine however you wish.)**


	23. Waking Up

**(AN: Well, I think we've come a long way from our first chapter. Though I'd much rather end on an even number, here's as good an end as any. It's a nice reversal of what happens in the first chapter, so it feels like we've gone somewhere. I'm glad you enjoyed _A Second Chance_ as much as I enjoyed writing it [or close enough, at least. lol])**

* * *

><p><strong>Waking Up<strong>

"Clear!"

A powerful shiver flowed through Mary's body. Her eyes were heavy and could not open immediately, and in the darkness her world was swimming. Her body ached all over and she felt light-headed. In her ears, voices were clamoring. Joseph was fighting with one of the orderlies. Something was wrong. To her profound surprise, she heard Roger's distinct basso voice praying for her.

Her vision returned slowly. At first all she could see were indistinct shapes, blurry and featureless. Then one face came into prominence. It was the face of a doctor. There were bright lights, the room started to come back into focus. She half-believed she had fainted during the delivery and the last two hours never happened. Yet the aches in her body came from above the waist, and it wasn't the piercing, knife-sharp, white hot pain of labor: it was the dull yet persistent pain of a bruise that was just starting to heal.

"She's awake!" a voice said. The face disappeared, and another face took it's place.

In all the time that she knew Joseph Wright, he had only cried twice in her memory. The first time was when he saw his daughter Katherine, alive, awake and alert. The doctor held the bloody baby into his hands on a cloth and he wept for joy. It touched Mary, then, to know that Joseph, her husband, could be as sensitive as she desired.

The second time was after Mary just now recovered from a near-brush with death.

* * *

><p>In the end, Mary, Joseph and baby Katherine left the hospital together. Mary had a slight concussion, and though Katherine would have blood problems later in life, she was now a healthy baby fit for life outside of the incubation chamber. Flanked by Will Denner, Roger Hobbs and dear old Sarah Leeland, and baby Noel, they seven departed back to Mary and Joseph's house in the Queens suburbs.<p>

Everything else seemed to fall into place after that. Sasha did jail-time and lost her license for driving under the influence: her father couldn't bail her out this time because the car she was driving was registered under his name, and several of the cars she had hit in the parking lot belonged to several very upset doctors who were not as forgiving as Mary and Joseph (who dropped any charges of attempted man-slaughter against Sasha). As if Providence itself was guiding them in this, their hour of need, Sasha's drunken rampage had cost Professor Hawkins his job and his credibility as a teacher and a scientist.

The incriminating documents Sasha had 'found' in her father's car were supposed to be presented at a meeting of very important members of the historical, archaeological and scientific community whom Professor Hawkins had invited to ESU. Without his evidence, he became a laughing stock for proposing the ludicrous idea that a 16th century monarch had somehow survived for over four hundred years and was living in New York. His job was now as good as gone, and he found himself at the business ends of very expensive property damage lawsuits.

This they learned from Kyle, who had to remain in Taiwan with Maddie until he was certain the Mother-ship was no longer being investigated. Even from over a thousand miles away, he seemed as up-to-date on everything as ever he had been before. Joseph and Mary saw Will and Roger off as they made their grand road trip to California, then, along with Sarah, returned to life as it normally was.

November 22nd, 2012, was the last time all seven of them were together. What happened to Mary Tudor Wright after that is not known. However, considering what else she has gone through, with friends like Sarah and Kyle, Will and Roger, and her beloved husband Joseph at her side; rest assured, all will be well.

**THE END**

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><p><strong>(AN: And at last, we come to the end!)<strong>

**(Thanks to you, all of you, who took the time to read my story. It was my first, honest-to-goodness story set in the modern times with little to almost no supernatural/fantastical elements. I'm not usually big on such stories, because I like the challenge of describing/depicting things that we're not usually exposed to [like Elves, dragons and rainbows], but I loved this story just the same.)**

**(Until next time.)**


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